Reliance
by anarin
Summary: [Complete] Hundreds of years before Colette's journey, Yuan's unease about Yggdrasill's methods begins to evolve into the seeds of the Renegades.
1. Homecoming

Author's Note: After a long break from the fanfiction scene, I'm back (and in a different fandom!). Please be harsh in comments, because it'll help my writing style.

As far as setting, this story begins about 450 years before the game. Tethe'alla has been in decline, while Sylvarant has prospered. The rest should come clear in the narrative. Enjoy!

* * *

Masses of paperwork threatened to engulf Yuan as he entered his office on the top level of Welgaia. _Unfair,_ he thought. Why had Mithos given him all this work after he'd just finished overseeing the Tethe'allan regeneration?

He slumped down into his uncomfortable chair with a sigh and noticed a blue note on one relatively clear spot of his desk. "_Yuan," _it read, _"Kratos took an injury and has been unable to finish his share of Welgaia's maintenance administration. Do it for him. You can hire an assistant if you need to. M.Y."_

Well, that was disturbing. Kratos has been playing antagonist in the Chosen's journey, after all. It was only out of duty that Yuan had had to fight his oldest friend, but Kratos was the one who had jumped in front of the mana blast. Yuan rubbed his right hand in memory of the explosion – the Chosen's mana signature was just subtly different enough from Martel's that there had been a severe rejection, and Kratos had dived in front of Yuan to protect him, even though Yuan had taken the precaution of defending himself and Kratos hadn't. Yuan would have to visit Kratos later and apologize. In the meantime, Mithos's suggestion of an assistant was definitely a good idea.

Yuan frowned. Who to choose? It couldn't be any of the ones loyal to the Desian Cardinals – he'd incurred their wrath in helping Umbran regenerate the world, which happened to ruin one of Pronyma's schemes. _Not like they didn't know what was going on. Serves them right for underestimating me, anyhow._ And if the Cardinals were not to be trusted because of their plotting, the Cruxis angels were definitely out. The ones with full emotional capability were too ambitious, and the ones without a heart were too creepy. That only left the new recruits, half-elves who hadn't formed an allegiance to any of the Cardinals.

Brushing a stack of papers unceremoniously to the floor, Yuan slid over a compact monitor and began searching through the Cruxis computer system's personnel database. _Hmm. A Tethe'allan would probably recognize me, but I'm not sure that would be a good thing…Let's see what we have from Sylvarant._ There were notoriously few half-elves born in Sylvarant, since Tethe'alla had been designated as the world that would house Heimdall. Still, there were a number of elves living among humans in Sylvarant, much as Yuan's own father had lived among humans in the Ancient World. And there was always the population of half-elves descended from other half-elves, though those children tended to come from whichever world was currently in decline since that was where the Desian ranches were located. _There ought to be some from Sylvarant…Ah, here we go. Looks like there are only two of them, though. Water-mage? Ew._ That was bound to end in fighting – Yuan couldn't seem to get along at all with anyone who specialized in Undine's magic. _Here we go. Fighter, supplemented with Earth-style attacks. Raised in Triet, born of unknown elven father, and joined the Desians when his mother died because he didn't have anywhere else to go._

He quickly entered the request to have Botta Segli, identification number 045F1, to be reassigned immediately to Welgaia, and then started on the stack of paperwork.


	2. Messy Desk

"Sir?" Botta asked tentatively to the blue-haired man behind the desk.

"Ah, come in. You must be Botta. I'm Yuan." Yuan smiled warmly at the new recruit. "I've been allotted a personal assistant by Lord Yggdrasil and I suspect I will be dealing with Sylvarant intensively in the near future, so please…" He trailed off, getting a distracted look on his face. "Did anyone ever tell you that you could pass for full human if you wore your hair long?"

Botta blinked. _This_ was one of the Four Seraphim? "Y-yes, sir. That is why I wear it short."

Yuan chuckled. "You'll find that I don't possess the same hatred towards humans that most of Cruxis does, so it won't matter to me. Besides, any mage could see that you're a half-elf by the way your body's mana interacts with the ambient mana. Anyway, get over here and help me file these papers into ones I can do myself and ones I have to send off to Kratos when he gets better."

"Yes, Lord Yuan." _What a strange assignment. Are they testing my loyalty?_ It never hurt to be suspicious, but every other high-ranking member of Cruxis that Botta had ever seen was cruel and cold. How had this absent-minded-seeming man reached the highest rank attainable?

"…'ll want to move your belongings to Welgaia so that you'll be easier to contact for me, even though it's a dreadfully boring place and you'll probably get sick of the monotony," Yuan was saying. Botta forced himself to stop pondering and listen to his new boss. "After spending the last year or so in Tethe'alla, I will admit to not wanting to leave the surface at all, but even I have responsibilities." Yuan scowled at his desk. "Lord Yggdrasil owes me one for successfully carrying out this Regeneration, though, so maybe he'll let me have an office on the surface like I've been pestering him for. Have you ever been to Tethe'alla?"

"No, sir. My training took place in the Tower of Salvation and before that I lived in Sylvarant."

"Shame, they're both wonderful places. I suppose I'll just have to show you around someday. But as I was saying, you can get moved up here pretty quickly. Would you want a furnished suite, or do you have your own furniture?"

"Ah, no, a furnished suite would be fine." _He talks a lot._ "Sir, I thought that only high-ranking Cruxis members were allowed to live in Welgaia."

"Yes, and what would you consider the personal assistant of Lord Seraph Yuan Rayson to be?" laughed Yuan. "Consider yourself lucky that I'm in the bad graces of the Five Grand Cardinals at the moment, or else I would have pulled a ranking Desian instead. Ah, there we go," he finished, looking at the greatly reduced workload. "I work _much_ faster when I have someone to distract me."

_That doesn't make any sense_, thought Botta. It seemed, however, to be true. "Will you be needing anything else at the moment, Lord Yuan?"

Yuan shook his head. "I should be able to handle most of this on my own, so go ahead and try to find an empty suite to start moving yourself in. I'll expect you in my quarters for lunch tomorrow and we'll see if we can't work out a schedule. I don't think I'll be needing more than a few hours of work out of you every day, so you'll have plenty of time to pursue your own interests."

"Yes, sir!" Botta bowed and turned to leave, but then checked himself and faced Yuan again. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for choosing me." What he didn't add was _I do not think I am cut out to be a Desian._

Yuan grinned. "Luck of the draw. We'll see if you're still grateful after you have to deal with me for a few years."

Botta saluted and left.


	3. Leave of Absence

Yuan seemed far more…irritable? Tired? Unhappy? It was hard to say for certain, but he definitely didn't look as carefree as usual when Botta reported for duty one afternoon. Despite this, he said "I've got some good news!" as soon as he noticed Botta.

Botta frowned, not liking the expression on Yuan's face, whatever it was. "Good news, sir?"

Yuan closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair. "Mith—Lord Yggdrasill has approved my request to check on the state of the Tethe'alla seals. I have three weeks of leave to be down in the _real_ world."

"That is good news," replied Botta gravely. _Three weeks without Lord Yuan is going to drive me insane – I can't stand the other angels_.

"You _are_ coming with me, Botta?" Yuan asked in such a hopeful voice that Botta's wash of relief was supplanted almost instantly with a feeling of protectiveness towards his erratic boss.

"I would be honored," Botta said. "I have not yet visited Tethe'alla. Will we be able to travel to all the seals in three weeks?" He supposed that one _could_ visit all the sacred sites in Sylvarant in that time, if one used the best vehicles magitechnology had to offer, but Tethe'alla didn't, according to the Central Kharlan Computer System, even have magitechnology.

Yuan just laughed, seeming to forget whatever it was that had been bothering him before. "We could visit them all in a day if we wanted to, but it will take longer than that to run a diagnostic and make sure the mana links are correctly controlling the flow. In particular, I'm concerned about the seal in the Temple of Darkness; Shadow's mana becomes unstable much easier than that of the other Summon Spirits."

Botta wasn't sure what his boss was talking about, but nodded anyway. "How soon will you need me to be ready, sir? Are there any special preparations you would like me to see to before we leave?"

"As much as I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible, I don't imagine I'll be ready before morning. And no, I can see to everything myself. Meet me back here at eight tomorrow, and requisition anything you think you'll need from the stores. But remember we'll be able to shop along the way, so don't bother packing too much food." Yuan grabbed a sheet of paper and began scribbling a list, nodding at Botta to dismiss him.

"Yes, sir!" Botta bowed and began making his own mental list of things he'd need to pack – not much, but best not forget anything important.

He couldn't help but wonder what the declining world was like.


	4. Guilt Flowers

"Kratos?" Yuan called out hopefully. Trying to navigate the draped halls of the medical ward in Welgaia was not an activity Yuan particularly liked, but he'd been putting this off for too long now.

"Over here," called out Kratos's voice, as strong as ever (much to Yuan's relief). "Is that you, Yuan?"

Yuan quickly pinpointed the corridor his friend's voice was coming from and made his way over, locking the automatic door behind him. The normally boring, sterile room had been brightened somewhat by the guilt-flowers Yuan had sent last week, and Kratos had a good stack of books to keep him company, but Yuan still felt bad for not visiting earlier.

Kratos hadn't been physically harmed by the explosion, aside from some minor abrasions, but like Yuan's right hand, Kratos was suffering from mana burn. Scorched mana channels couldn't give or receive any mana that wasn't produced by the body, so the only thing to do was wait for it to heal itself. _When you've become accustomed to magical healing, though, natural healing seems terribly slow._ It would still probably be another month before Yuan could use his hand to focus magic, like with his signature lightning attack, but Kratos's entire left side had been hit by the blast. He probably wouldn't even be able to transform to his angel form for a year or more. _I'm sorry, old friend, I truly am, but somehow I don't think you'd forgive me if I told you that it was deliberate…._

Kratos just smiled up at Yuan, looking tired. "Thank you for taking on my paperwork, Yuan. I know how much you must enjoy it."

Yuan made a face at his convalescent friend. "Yes, well, now that I've been approved to go check on the seals I'm going to dump it right back on you – you _can_ write?" An underlying tone of concern was under the mocking words, which Yuan knew from experience Kratos would pick up.

Kratos nodded. "I'm sorry I can't help you with the seals. Mithos probably won't help, either, will he? He didn't with the last two regenerations."

"I should hope that I have enough command over the mana by now to run a simple diagnostic, but if there's anything wrong I'll most likely have to call on him to back me up. I don't know what he's doing that he thinks is more important than the World Prolongation Project, but then he doesn't always make sense to me." And if _that_ wasn't an understatement, Yuan didn't know what was.

"Yuan…" Kratos started, but hesitated. With Yuan's inquisitive glance, Kratos continued. "I know it's a lot to ask," he said, quieter, "but please check on Umbran's family? He…was a decent man."

Yuan nodded. Though Kratos had opposed the Chosen in his role as antagonist, there was no dislike inherent in him. Why, Yuan still held fond memories of Spiritua, and he had played antagonist that time. "I'm assuming you mean above and beyond the normal bloodline nonsense."

Kratos nodded, frowning. "From the way Cruxis acts, one would think that people were entirely incapable of producing children on their own without divine guidance. But yes, I would like to see that they are provided for."

"Of course. I've been approved for three weeks' leave as well, so if there's anything I can get for you while I'm down there I'd be more than happy to." Yuan leaned over and traced a barely visible – even to him – mana line in Kratos's face.

Kratos laughed and batted Yuan's hand away. "Stop that, it tickles. I wouldn't object to some purple satay, if you can find any in Tethe'alla."

Yuan smiled. Kratos never went without a chance to improve his cooking, even though precious few people ever appreciated it. "I will. And," he added, the thought occurring to him as he spoke it, "if the Elven Storyteller will consent to see me, I'll ask him if there's any known way to cure mana burn, or speed the process of recovery."

Kratos closed his eyes. "Thank you. Have a good trip, Yuan."

"I'll try my best." _And I'm sorry._

With that, Yuan bowed and left to start packing.


	5. The Declining World

Author's Note: All right, we're caught up to stuff I already had written. Thanks to everyone who reviewed...next few chapters won't be up so fast but are coming I promise. :D (I'll try to make them longer too, but we'll see. Sometimes they just stop where they stop.)

* * *

Yuan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. _Air. Fresh air that hasn't been recycled a thousand times._ He didn't mind that it was cloudy enough that that sun was blocked, or that Botta was clearly nervous about the deep chasm separating the Tower of Salvation from the rest of the landscape – it was enough to be on the surface again.

"All right, Botta, our first task is to deactivate this staircase so that people don't just walk into the Tower of Salvation. Not that they'd be able to use the transports once they were inside, mind, but it's best not to leave things to chance."

"Yes, sir. How are we supposed to get to the other side once it's deactivated?"

Yuan laughed. "We'll deactivate it from the Tethe'alla side. There are switches on both sides, but if you don't have an angelic mana signature, you can still get in or out through the maintenance tunnels as long as you have the proper access codes."

Botta looked relieved, though he didn't seem to actually relax until they were on solid ground. From there, it was a simple matter of Yuan disabling the Oracle Stone and the insubstantial-looking stairs vanished. "This is a process you'll become familiar with, Botta. From here we'll head to the Temple of Lightning – it's the closest, and I always like visiting with Volt." He reached into a small satchel and got out a Wing Pack, frowning slightly. "Normally I'd use Rheiards to travel, but the latest model is conspicuously noisy and we're trying to keep a low profile. For now, we'll just have to use these old Jet-Bikes."

From the Wing Pack emerged a set of matched black hovercraft that would take their riders over land or sea, though not as quickly as the Rheiard aircraft would. With a nod from Yuan, Botta gingerly mounted one and strapped himself in. The controls were easy enough to manage, and after a few moments Yuan tossed a black helmet to his assistant, putting his own on and hopping lightly on the second Jet-Bike.

"The helmets are equipped with a two-way radio. See that red button on the right handle?"

"Yes, sir. It's very useful, but forgive me if I fail to see how riding around on black hovercraft in a world without magitechnology makes us less conspicuous…." Botta's voice came through with minimal static. _Good. I wasn't sure if these radios still worked._

"Twist the left handle backwards and you'll see." Yuan demonstrated and grinned at Botta's surprised yelp.

"Sir! How am I supposed to follow you when we're invisible?" Botta asked, sounding a bit panicked.

"We're not really invisible. Try looking for mana flows." Much like the Tower of Salvation, the bikes were equipped with a light-bending projection field that seemed to make them disappear, but actually left a bright mana field. It was impossible to sustain for long periods of time, of course, and would have been completely useless in the mana-deprived atmosphere of Tethe'alla if they'd been powered by the ambient mana fields, but Yuan had specially equipped these particular Jet-Bikes to be fueled by mana fragments from Derris-Kharlan.

"I see. The Lightning Temple is north of here?"

"That's right. Follow me!"

And with that, the two nearly-invisible figures sped off into the wilds of Tethe'alla.


	6. Temple of Lightning

Author's Note: Okay, this one is a little bit longer. I'm trying. :D

* * *

Botta shivered as they approached the entrance to the Temple of Lightning. He could feel the power of the Summon Spirit pulsing through the air, making his hair feel like it was standing on end (though this was also in large part thanks to generous application of hair gel). "Lord Yuan? Are there monsters here?" The Central Kharlan Computer System said that monsters didn't appear in the flourishing world, but Botta wasn't sure if that assurance extended to the seals or not.

"Not many," replied his boss. "They mostly leave me alone anyway. Lightning _is_ my element, after all." Yuan turned back to smirk at Botta through his half-waterfall of hair. "They perceive me as one of them, in a way."

"That must be reassuring for you," said Botta, nervously scanning the dark temple. Periodic flashes of lightning lit the large foyer, though the lightning seemed to only be striking a rod up on a platform.

"Don't worry. They won't attack you unless they're provoked. Lightning _is_ weak to Earth attacks," grinned Yuan. "It would still be a good idea not to stray too far from me, though, unless you have a weapon on you that I can't see."

Horrified, Botta realized that he'd completely forgotten to bring any kind of weapon with him. He supposed that he'd have to purchase one next time they were in a city for self-defense inside the seals from now on. He was proficient enough with magic, but it was simple common sense even for the best of mages to carry a weapon in case they met up with something resistant to their elemental specialty. "No, sir."

"Not a problem. Here, the seal is actually pretty close to the entrance in this place. I'll send someone down to reset the traps later – my job is just to make sure the mana link is working correctly." Yuan led the way up a few sets of stairs and, true enough, the elementals kept their distance and ignored the two intruders.

Volt's seal simply radiated mana. Not even Welgaia, situated as it was upon the mass of pure mana that was Derris-Kharlan, felt like this. It seemed to be coming from the deep purple starburst floating a few feet above the seal itself, and Yuan nodded expectantly when he saw it. While he busied himself setting up some complex magitech apparatus, Botta approached the seal curiously. The mana coming from the seal was definitely aligned with Lightning, but there was also the pure feeling of unaligned mana and even a strong sense of Undine's Water mana flowing outwards to Tethe'alla.

"There we go," said Yuan, finishing up his setup. "It'll take a few hours to run a complete diagnostic." He turned his face to the seal and looked directly at the mana starburst, smiling slightly. "Everything looks fine, though. Did you know that in the days before the Church, people used to worship the Summon Spirits themselves?"

"That is what the old legends from Triet imply. Efreet is mentioned in nearly all of them," Botta replied absently. The mana within the seal seemed to be condensing….

"_There_ you are!" crowed Yuan as Volt's form became clear. "I'm sorry it's been so long since I visited."

Botta just stared in surprise as the giant purple ball-with-eyes began to converse with Yuan in some language he'd never heard before.

"Well yes," Yuan was saying, "but I didn't exactly get a chance to talk last time. Oh? This is Botta. Kratos jumped in front of me to shield me from a blast and he's still recovering."

Volt fixed his attention on Botta and he felt himself awestruck by the presence of the Summon Spirit. _It's no wonder they were worshipped as gods._ He bowed almost automatically, which seemed to please Volt.

"He likes you," whispered Yuan to Botta with a wink. Turning his attention back to Volt, Yuan continued the seemingly one-sided conversation. "Of course I came here first. Probably Celsius next, then Gnome. It's not that I don't _like_ Shadow, it's just that he's the most difficult and I don't have Kratos to back me us this time." Yuan made a face at Volt's reply. "I doubt it. I don't even know if he cares anymore."

Botta knew the sound of frustration laced with despair when he heard it and frowned. Whoever the "he" was that Yuan was talking about (Botta didn't think it was this Kratos, since it sounded like he would have been here if he wasn't injured), Botta got the feeling that "he" should have been helping Yuan and not some new recruit that had never even been to Tethe'alla before.

Yuan sighed. "I don't suppose it matters. I should be able to handle it on my own." Whatever Volt said in reply, it made Yuan check himself. "Oh. You're right. I'm sorry, Botta. I didn't mean to imply that you'd be useless." Yuan looked genuinely apologetic.

Botta looked at him incredulously. "Sir? I don't even know what we're doing, much less how I could help."

"Your primary task is to prevent me from being bored out of my mind while the diagnostic runs. It's very harsh, I know. Yes Volt, you can help too, but trying to talk to Shadow is like going through Gaoracchia Forest on foot – lots of work for little reward."

_That doesn't sound too bad._ "I will do my best, sir."

Yuan smiled. "I look forward to it."


	7. Altamira

Early the next morning, Yuan explained his travel plan over the radio.

"The next seal I'd like to visit is Celsius's seal of Ice over on the Flanoir continent, but before we go there we're going to have to get some warmer clothes. It's like winter all year round there. We're probably also going to want to get you a weapon of some kind, so instead of going straight to Flanoir, we should stop at Altamira. It's a little fishing village to the southeast of here, but they should have everything we'll need. What kind of weapon do you use, anyway?"

"I was trained in the use of the heavy blade, sir."

Yuan whistled in appreciation. "That's not easy to wield. Ah, it's just across this channel." He led Botta to a secluded cove on the northwestern end of the large island before deactivating the invisibility fields on the Jet-Bikes. All it took was a simple gesture and the hovercrafts were stored, leaving two relatively normal-looking half-elven travelers that approached Altamira.

Altamira was a port town that, for the past few years, had been suffering from poor fish yields and heavy storms that tended to ruin crops. Yuan was pleased to note that, in the three months since he'd visited as part of Umbran's journey, Altamira was already looking better. The rice fields north of town looked to be orderly and thriving, and small fishing boats crowded around larger passenger ships competing for dock space. There was even what seemed to be a steamliner from Sybak docked, which Yuan eyed curiously.

"Let's get a room at the inn and then look around," he decided. Botta just nodded, drinking in sights of the humble town. Coming from Sylvarant as he did, streets paved only with dirt and buildings made of wood with little masonry were like relics of an age gone by…though, Yuan thought sadly, it would soon enough be Tethe'alla that had the towering structures of glass and bricks and Sylvarant that looked at wood as the prime housing material. He'd seen it happen often enough that the shifting fortunes of the worlds no longer surprised him, but he still felt a keen sadness that it needed to be so.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Yuan noticed that the inn was right in front of them. The Mermaid's Tear was named after the playful creatures seen around Altamira just often enough that most people actually believed they existed. It was a spacious two-story establishment, and the perky receptionist seemed more than happy to take their reservation.

"Excuse me, young lady," Yuan asked her, "but I thought I saw one of Sybak's steam ships in the harbor. Is there something going on?"

"I'm surprised you don't know about it already!" She looked excited. "Mister Lezareno, you know, Vince Lezareno, the richest man in the city? Well, he's decided to run steamliners between here and Flanoir once a month! That way, we can go visit winter and they can come to summer all year round! It's a good idea, isn't it?"

Yuan nodded. "It certainly does! Why, I may be interested in doing that myself." _Well, it can't hurt to have a cover story, at any rate._

"I'm sure if you ask around you can find some more specific information. Here's your key! Have a nice stay." She bowed and handed Yuan a small metal key.

"Thank you, my dear." He nodded to Botta and they dropped off their traveling gear in the room before heading out to the marketplace.

The Altamira market was situated scenically near the white-sand beaches the island was famous for. It was a busy place: fishermen selling today's catch vied with merchants from Meltokio touting the latest fashions, and a large crowd of locals and travelers alike surrounding the steam ship. Yuan didn't see the need to rush, so he let Botta lead.

Botta was clearly fascinated. True, the "latest fashions" would have been terribly out-of-date in Palmacosta, and the selection of fish was just different enough from what Izoold had to offer that he'd probably never even eaten some of it before, but it was more than that. Everything was different and yet…it was still somehow very similar to Sylvarant. A cloak sporting the Lezareno crest shouted out a pattern unknown in Sylvarant, but it was still clearly a cloak. There were some unfamiliar types of weapons (if one could consider cards and iron bars weapons), but they were outnumbered by the more familiar bows, staves, swords, and daggers.

"It's not so different," he remarked quietly to Yuan, who was eyeing a weighted staff with interest. "I was expecting it to be more…." He trailed off, looking for the right word.

"Alien?" asked Yuan.

"Yes, that's it. But most of these people wouldn't look out of place in Triet, at least, not more so than ordinary travelers."

"There are more differences between subcultures within the worlds than there are between the worlds themselves," replied Yuan, closing his eyes. "We tend to forget that it was once one land, one people, all speaking the same language, before they grew greedy and shattered the Alliance. It was greed for power that tore the worlds apart, and the Great Kharlan Tree was the casualty." He could remember it still – the blinding flash of Thor's Hammer, the screams of the victims of war, a child trying desperately to mend the breach between the two kingdoms by using the Summoner's power that was his birthright and his curse….

Martel's voice, making an oasis of quiet love within the sea of hatred….

"Sir?"

Yuan's eyes snapped open. He'd quite literally forgotten where he was for a moment. "Ah, yes, I'm sorry, Botta. Are there any blades here you can use?"

He didn't answer for a moment, concern evident in his features. _Don't ask me about it in public_, Yuan pleaded mentally, hoping Botta would catch something to that extent from his glance. Apparently it worked, because all Botta said was "Yes, sir," followed by a respectful "Are you going to be all right?"

_I haven't had a flashback like that in centuries,_ thought Yuan. "I think so."

_I hope so._


	8. Land of Ice and Snow

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the Blizzard of 2006, which caused my normally brown and boring state into a white paradise for a month (and counting)!

_

* * *

Flanoir, _Botta thought to himself as they approached the snowbound city, _is entirely too cold._ True, it didn't help that the speeding Jet-Bikes made it effectively seem like they were going through heavy winds, but even the sunlight didn't seem to warm the land. Above all it seemed difficult to believe that this domain of Ice was almost exactly parallel to the Triet Desert. , Botta thought to himself as they approached the snowbound city, True, it didn't help that the speeding Jet-Bikes made it effectively seem like they were going through heavy winds, but even the sunlight didn't seem to warm the land. Above all it seemed difficult to believe that this domain of Ice was almost exactly parallel to the Triet Desert. 

Yuan had explained a little bit about what the Ancient World had looked like before Yggdrasill had split it – ostensibly for its own protection, though Yuan had frowned when told that part, as if he didn't quite agree with what he was saying – and, sure enough, Flanoir had been right over the northern mountains from Triet. The influence of the Summon Spirits on the surrounding landscape was dangerous to underestimate, he had concluded. Botta had the impression that his boss wanted to explain more, but something was holding Yuan back and Botta didn't press him.

He did find it strange that one of the highest-ranking members of Cruxis didn't have the same fanatical loyalty that Yggdrasill demanded of everyone else, but his current assignment was infinitely preferable to punishing people for the crime of being born. Botta didn't inquire too closely, just offered a prayer of thanks to Martel that he was only being forced to endure freezing winds and barren white landscape.

Still, he was happy that they'd only be spending two nights here.

"Let's land a little farther out this time, Botta," came Yuan's voice across the radio. "Travelers are rare out here, so if we show up without a believable layer of snow they're going to be suspicious."

"Yes, sir," Botta sighed. However, once they'd packed up the Jet-Bikes, Botta realized that it wasn't actually that cold as long as they stayed out of the wind. In fact, the snow was fun to walk around in. Getting closer to the city, he noticed a few large drifts that had been converted into miniature fortresses in obvious imitations of a Desian Ranch.

Yuan snickered when Botta pointed this out to him. "Maybe I'll convince Pronyma to make a ranch out of ice and then she'll put on some decent clothing."

"Unlikely, sir." Botta had only seen the Grand Cardinal once, but he didn't think much of her fashion sense. "Lord Yuan?"

"What is it, Botta?"

"Why is there a city out here if it's so cold all the time?"

"Why is there a city in the desert if it's so hot all the time?" Yuan responded with a challenge.

Botta frowned in thought as they entered Flanoir proper. It was larger than Altamira, and many of the buildings were made of brick. A large clock tower made of wood guarded the entrance, and farther off there was a massive cathedral. It couldn't be easy to navigate the rocky fjords to get here, especially without magitechnology, yet even though the world had been in decline it was obvious that Flanoir was home to many.

What if it were Sylvarant that were in decline? Would people still live in Triet without air conditioning? _Of course they would,_ he chided himself. _There wasn't air conditioning in Spiritua's time, and everybody knows she stopped in Triet along her journey. People live in Triet because the desert has a beauty all its own…_and there was his answer. Although it was too cold to walk outside without warm clothes and a fire waiting at home, Botta had to admit that the snow gave everything a peaceful, clean look. Even the trees took on fantastic new appearances when covered in snow, and he'd already seen evidence that snow could be molded into structures for play. Like the desert, the tundra had its own beauty that wasn't found anywhere else in the world.

Yuan smiled as Botta tried to put this into words. "_A new horizon challenges us to see the beauty in all things_," he quoted from the Book of Martel. "It's important for me to come down here sometimes so that I remember why I do the things I do. If Tethe'alla were to decline too far, the mana that makes the winter wheat grow and the pine prosper and the herds fat would vanish, and the people who live here would freeze or starve." Yuan shook his head. "And if it were to prosper too much, Sylvarant would suffer in its place."

"But why must one world suffer for the sake of the other? Can they not both prosper?" _Surely,_ Botta thought, _if he is a leader of Cruxis, he could make it so that both worlds can live in happiness._

But Yuan shook his head again. "Unfortunately, I am in the minority among the Seraphim. Lord Yggdrasill has willed it to be this way. I do not have the power to oppose him alone, and Kratos sides with Yggdrasill. The best I can do is to see that neither world falls too much into decline, and hope that one of them will see what I see before I succumb to despair and stop caring altogether."

Botta didn't know how to respond to this, although a small voice inside him was insisting that there were _four_ Seraphim, not three. Finally, he just said "You're not alone. I know I cannot do much, but I will side with you."

Yuan said nothing, but the look he gave Botta was full of thanks.


	9. Celsius and Fenrir

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, but school's back in session now. Arrgh.

* * *

The Temple of Ice was at once like and unlike the Temple of Lightning. The same sense of a powerful concentration of mana spread throughout the temple, but where Volt's mana came in pulses, Celsius's energy was a slow, steady emanation. Elementals of various types roamed the ice tunnels, but they didn't avoid the two half-elves like the ones in the Lightning Temple did.

"_Thunder Blade!_" Yuan seemed content to stay at a distance and pound the ice creatures with magic, but every once in a while he would join Botta in the melee, using a curious but dangerous-looking dual-bladed sword. When Botta asked him about his choice of weapons, Yuan just shrugged and said "I got bored with staves".

After a battle with a pair of Lobos, they found themselves on a stone bridge overlooking a very cold-looking underground lake to the south and a set of pillars to the north. Yuan paused.

"No need to go through the trouble of freezing it again," he decided. "You don't have a problem with heights, do you?"

Botta, suspicious of Yuan's grin but reminding himself that his boss hadn't done anything abysmally stupid yet, shook his head. _This may have been a bad idea_, said a small part of his brain when Yuan suddenly grabbed Botta and jumped off the ledge, but most of his brain was occupied with "_Aaaaaah!_"

Of course, Yuan used his wings to give them a safe fall and landing, but Botta still glared at him once they were back on solid ground. "It saved us a trip around more than half of the temple," Yuan pointed out.

"You could have given me better warning," Botta replied. "I had forgotten that you are not bound by gravity."

"That's a tactful way to put it," laughed Yuan. "You've probably never even seen me fly before." It was true; most of the Cruxis angels hovered or flew constantly, never touching the ground, but Yuan almost always walked everywhere. He fluttered his wings, inviting Botta to inspect them.

They were very different from the physical, feathered wings of Welgaia's angelic population. Seemingly made of reddish energy, they were, like the stairs to the Tower of Salvation, solid to the touch and sturdier than they looked. Were they a projection of Yuan's personal mana? It didn't seem like they were drawing energy from the ambient mana, but then Botta's senses were a little bit confused by the sheer amount of mana in the air this close to the seal. They were definitely creations of Light-elemental mana, though, and Botta had never seen Yuan use anything other than Lightning-type attacks.

"Since I often request missions to the surface, it's more convenient for me to have retractable wings," said Yuan quietly, "but it's also a sign of status. Yggdrasill decided a long time ago that the three of us – he, Kratos, and I – were to keep mortal forms as well as angelic forms in case we needed to interact directly with the populace. I can't tell you how many times he's used his mortal form to seduce a wavering half-elf into joining the Desians, or how many times Kratos and I have acted as a companion to the various Chosens to ensure that they are successful in their quests."

Botta nodded. "I will try to be more aware of your capabilities, sir. In my experience, leaping down from a bridge is generally a bad idea."

Yuan grinned, seriousness forgotten. "All right, I'll admit I did that just to get a reaction out of you. You're very stoic. But come on, the seal's just ahead."

Wondering if Yuan did most of his more outrageous things "just to get a reaction" out of him, Botta followed his boss into the seal room. Like the seal at the Temple of Lightning, the mana in here was dense and mostly felt unaligned, though there was naturally a large amount of Fire and Ice mana as well. Where was the unaligned mana coming from? The Great Seed? Sylvarant? Botta frowned at the thought of mana leaking away from his desert home…but then, Triet had chased him away, hadn't it? Did he really care that the glass towers would begin to fall into ruin and magitechnology would be lost, defeating all the progress made in the past few hundred years?

Botta sighed. Yes, he did care. There had always been a few people in the community who didn't seem to mind that he was a half-elf, and besides, he still thought of Triet as his home. Yet he couldn't really just condemn Tethe'alla to destruction in order to assure Sylvarant's prosperity – and if there were a way for both worlds to be happy, wouldn't Cruxis have figured it out by now?

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft growling. Looking in the direction of the noise, Botta saw a wolf – smaller than the Lobos they'd fought earlier, but much more graceful. "Ah, Lord Yuan? Are there supposed to be elementals inside the seal room?"

Yuan looked up from the diagnostic machine. "Fenrir," he called to the wolf and then bowed. It stopped growling. "Fenrir isn't an elemental, Botta. He's a lesser spirit that serves Celsius." Yuan held out a hand, which Fenrir cautiously approached and sniffed. "There's an old story in Flanoir that one of its ancient kings was dedicated to the worship of Celsius, even though the Church had outlawed the old ways. The angels threatened to bring judgment down upon his city unless he renounced Celsius and embraced Martel, but he refused to give up the Summon Spirit. Not wanting to see his beloved city reduced to ash, he fled into the tundra. No one knows what happened to him, but afterwards Celsius was always seen in the presence of a loyal frost wolf." He ruffled the fur behind Fenrir's ears and the wolf licked him.

"That isn't exactly true and you know it," came a strong female voice from the direction of the seal. Fenrir bounded over to the coalescing form of Celsius and started circling it protectively.

"I didn't say it was true. I said that was the story," smirked Yuan. "Greetings, Disciple of Ice."

"Do you _have_ to run that check every time? It's working correctly," said Celsius irately.

"Do I _have_ to? No, of course I don't. Do I enjoy getting away from Yggdrasill for three weeks? Of course I do," shot back Yuan.

"If only we could all be so lucky," muttered Celsius. "It's good to be awake again, I'll say that much. By the way, who are you?" she directed to Botta.

Botta bowed. "My name is Botta. I'm here to, ah, keep Lord Yuan from being terminally bored," he answered, weathering a playful glare from his boss.

"A noble goal. Very well; I grant you free use of my domain for the purpose of controlling the flow between the worlds."

"Thank you, my lady Celsius." And with that, they settled in to wait for the diagnostic to finish.


	10. Yuan the Priest?

Something was bothering Yuan, but he couldn't quite pin it down. It wasn't the mana link; Celsius had been right about it working correctly. No, it had to be something else, but so far everything was going just as planned, if not better. Botta was an ideal travel companion: he left Yuan alone when he needed to be alone, but made conversation when it was appropriate. Even his fighting style complemented Yuan's, with his melee attacks and Earth magic filling in the gaps left by Yuan's Lightning attacks.

_Lightning attacks…._

With a start, Yuan realized that he shouldn't have been able to cast magic at all because of the mana burn in his hand, but instead he had been using magic normally all throughout the Ice Temple. The mana burn that should have taken much longer to heal was simply gone.

_How in the name of the Great Tree did that happen?_ He mentally reviewed everything he'd done in the past few days, but he remembered neither anything unusual about their trip so far nor the time when his injury had ceased being painful. He sighed. How was he supposed to explain this to Kratos? Or rather, how could he figure out what had cured it, and then do the same for Kratos's burn?

_Oh well_. Yuan was certain he could figure it out, but it annoyed him that he hadn't noticed. In the meantime, they were drawing closer to Meltokio and he needed to decide what exactly he would do once they arrived.

Meltokio was the sometimes-capital of Tethe'alla. For various reasons, it had often been located in Sybak as the King moved around between one generation and the next, but Meltokio currently held the dubious honor of leading Tethe'alla. The designation would likely have some actual meaning once communication lines began to develop between the major cities again. Until then, it was remarkable mostly for its ancient, crumbling buildings and famous as the home of the mana bloodline.

The mana bloodline, whose latest Chosen he'd led through pain and suffering into an explosive death, as Martel's mana signature rejected Umbran's body in the very blast that had caused Yuan and Kratos's mana burn in the first place.

He motioned to Botta to park the Jet-Bikes, but instead of directly approaching the city, as they had been doing, he said "Wait".

"What is it, Lord Yuan?"

Yuan paused. "I told you that I'd been travelling around with the Chosen as part of his group, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"When I did that, I'd been posing as a priest of the Church of Martel. It's a standard disguise – there really isn't anyone who knows more about Church dogma than Cruxis. It's probably best that I maintain that disguise in Meltokio. If anyone asks, you're studying under me as a disciple. It isn't that far from the truth." He frowned. "It's probably better if you don't say anything, though. You shouldn't have to lie for me."

"Are there people here that know you as a priest, then?"

Yuan nodded. "This is the Chosen's hometown in Tethe'alla. Unfortunately it's also the closest town to the Temples of both Earth and Darkness, so I can't really avoid coming into contact with the Wilder family."

Botta frowned. "I may not be able to do well as a disciple. I am not familiar with much of Martel's scriptures."

"That may work in our favor. I'm supposed to be training you." Yuan regretfully folded up his cape and donned a white sash and tall priest's hat. He liked his cape. It always flared dramatically whenever Yuan cast a spell, but it wasn't part of the traditional priest's garb. _Stupid Kratos for setting the priest dress standard so as not to have a cape_. The hats were rather ear-accenting, but Yuan had always found it laughably easy to pass for a full-blooded elf. It was going to be different for Botta, though. Elves just didn't have his muscular build. Oh well. Yuan would just have to glare at anyone who even _tried_ to look down on Botta.

He put this resolution into effect rather quickly upon entering the city, and several more times before reaching the Wilder house.

"I'm sorry," he apologized before knocking on the door. "This particular king isn't very compassionate towards half-elves, and his views tend to be reflected outside the palace as well. It's a recurring trend that will reverse itself in about fifty years, give or take a decade." Botta looked intrigued, but before he could say anything, the door was answered.

Esperanza Wilder looked older since the loss of her husband, but she smiled brightly when she saw who had come to visit. "Father Yuan! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Martel's blessing upon you." Funny, it didn't even hurt to say that anymore. Much. "As you know, I have been travelling since the Regeneration was completed, and now I find myself here again."

"Please, do come in. I'm sure the children will be delighted to see you." She ushered the two visitors in, smiling at Botta. "Are you one of Father Yuan's friends?"

Botta bowed. "Botta Segli, my lady. I am accompanying him on his journey as part of my duties, as well as for my own education." _Nicely put_, though Yuan.

The Chosen's house was large by Meltokio standards, though not as impressive as some of the buildings in Iselia. Gifts from those grateful for Umbran's sacrifice lined the walls, and Yuan was gratified to see that, even without assistance from the Church, the family would be well provided for as a result. Still, a promise was a promise, and he'd told Kratos he would ensure their well-being.

"Lady Esperanza, I will admit that my presence here is not entirely a coincidence," Yuan said as Esperanza led them over to the table and put on some water for tea. "I was approached by an angelic being who told me to look after your family's welfare. Truly, the line of the Chosen is in Cruxis's hands." _More like controlled by our iron grip, but she doesn't need to hear it like that._

She became very still. "You saw an angel?"

Yuan smiled gently, trying not to crack under the strain. "I even spoke to him. The Chosen did fulfill his promise, and Tethe'alla has been saved." He handed her a parcel he'd prepared. It contained several thousand Gald and, more precious by far in Yuan's estimation, Umbran's diary.

Esperanza's eyes began to tear up. "Thank you." She reached for a handkerchief to wipe away the tears, but Yuan stopped her hand.

"Tears cleanse the soul. They show not weakness, but the strength that we accept our grief and have the ability to move on." Not words from the Book of Martel, but Kratos's plea to Yuan in the days when he'd been lost in his own despair. _All the more true because they came from the heart_.

Esperanza nodded, but regained her composure. "Thank you, Father. Please, if you would like to stay in Meltokio, consider my house to be your house. It would be good for us to have some visitors. Oh, people come and go all the time, but few of them ever stay for more than a few minutes."

Yuan smiled. "I'd like that. Botta, do you mind staying here for a few days?" He'd planned on just getting a room at the inn, but Yuan knew he would like to see Umbran's daughters before moving on to the next seal.

"I would be honored," Botta replied gravely. The look he gave Yuan was clearly readable: _I want to know what is going on here_. _Not now, but before much longer._

Yuan dreaded the thought of telling him the whole story, but he knew that he was going to have to if he wanted to keep Botta's friendship. _Is it really necessary?_

_Am I willing to risk alienating him?_


	11. Gnome's Temple

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I'm giving you a nice long chapter as an apology:)

* * *

Botta wasn't sure if Yuan ever actually slept – the Central Kharlan Computer System had stated, rather confusingly, that sleep was not physically necessary for angelic beings but was vital to the maintenance of a good emotional state, IF they had emotions – but he knew that Yuan certainly hadn't gotten any last night. He'd kept hearing sounds, too soft to draw him out of sleep, but enough to disturb his dreaming, and then once he'd awakened to see Yuan out of the Wilder's guest room entirely, leaning over the balcony and staring off into space.

"A compromise," Yuan had murmured to Botta on the way to breakfast. "I'll tell you everything – after we finish checking the seals. Bits and pieces aren't going to satisfy you, but there are certain things I am not willing to say while we're here in Meltokio. Besides, it will take some time to tell the _whole_ story. It's longer than you think."

Content for the moment, Botta had nodded. For the moment, though, Yuan was right. They needed to finish checking the mana links, and the Earth Temple was next on the agenda.

Botta could feel Yuan's eyes on him as they approached the Temple of Earth. At first, it didn't seem any different from the other seals they'd visited, but Botta felt something inside himself relax almost imperceptibly as he entered Gnome's domain. _Is it because I'm attuned to the element here?_ he wondered silently. That would explain the…how to describe it…broadening of his senses? _Yes, that's it._ It was as though his body's mana had merged with the ambient force in the Temple – how else to explain the sense of every rock's density and flaws, every stalagmite's potential growth, and every chasm's depth throughout the entire temple?

"You see why I like visiting the Lightning Temple?" Yuan smirked.

Botta nodded. "I feel like I could be a part of this place," he said slowly. "I see what you meant about the elementals thinking you were one of them, Lord Yuan." He gently sent a mana probe towards his boss, noting the presence of someone attuned to Volt as though it were a leaf in an otherwise clear pond or a single cloud in the sky. "The mana…I've never felt so much a part of it as I do here."

Yuan's smile faded a little. "It's said that elves feel that way all the time, or at any rate they did when the world's mana came from the Great Kharlan Tree. But you're right; the Lightning Temple is _home_ to me in a way that Welgaia can never be. Take my advice, Botta – if you ever need to hide from a powerful mage, come back here. Yes, it'll be the first place they'll look, if they're intelligent; despite that, Gnome's power would make you almost completely invisible to magical senses."

Botta nodded, frowning slightly. "Sir, I hope that I will never have to run from a powerful mage, but thank you for the advice." He extended his own magical senses and nodded off to the left. "The seal's that way, isn't it?"

"That's right," Yuan confirmed. "Do you mind if I hover? I've never quite trusted the bridges in this place not to fall out underneath me."

Botta grinned. He could trust the bridges just fine – _just avoid _that_ one and _that_ one, and that stalactite over there._ "Of course I do not mind, sir."

Just like Yuan had said, the monsters completely ignored Botta. A few of them approached Yuan, but he managed to avoid the bulk of their attention, and before long they were in front of the seal. Unlike the other Summon Spirits, though, who had only seemed to become aware of their presence after a little time had passed, a giant mole that could only be Gnome had already manifested itself and looked like it was waiting for their arrival.

"Hey Yuan!" it called out. "Celsius told me you'd be on your way, but uh, she didn't say you were bringing one of _mine_ with you."

"I don't really understand how you Summon Spirits communicate among yourselves," Yuan replied as he began to set up the device that checked the mana links, "but this is Botta." He waved vaguely in Botta's direction.

Botta bowed. "You see me as one of '_yours'_?" he asked curiously. He hadn't been aware that Summon Spirits were possessive.

Gnome chuckled. "Duh. I don't remember you, though. You musta been born while I was asleep." Botta felt a magical prodding. "Yep. Well, welcome to my Temple! You're welcome here any time, as long as you don't give Earth magic a bad name."

Botta blinked. True, Celsius hadn't been entirely serious, and he hadn't understood what Volt had said at all, but Gnome was informal almost beyond belief. "Ah, thank you. I shall do my best not to give Earth magic a bad name."

"Good," Gnome said. "So tell me. Do you like it here? Should I make any changes?"

"I do like it here. I feel very in touch with the mana flows, as I have never felt before. I wonder, though, if wood is the correct choice for bridges over the chasms. Would it not decay after time?"

"Not really. I mean, if it does, I can always get these Cruxis guys to make some new ones." Gnome reached out a short, furry paw and ruffled Yuan's hair, prompting a "Hey!" from the Seraph. "But about the mana flows? You're gonna feel that in any kind of deep cave where my influence is strong. If you cast any of my spells here they'll be more powerful, too, but the elementals are just going to ignore it."

Botta nodded. "Is that because the proportion of mana is favorable to Earth attacks?"

Gnome scratched its head. "Kinda. It's also cause, you know how you said you felt like you're a part of the mana flow?" Botta nodded. "Well, it's because my mana is compatible with your body's mana, so it sort of flushes your system and then constantly replenishes itself."

Yuan froze. "It flushes your system and replenishes itself?" he repeated slowly.

"Something like that. You mean Volt never told you that?"

Yuan shook his head, furrowing his brow in thought. "So if my personal mana fields were damaged, a trip to the Lightning Temple might fix it," he mused, holding up his right hand and looking oddly at it.

"Yep. That would probably do the trick. But uh, you don't look like you're off balance or anything."

Yuan inclined his head. "What would I do," he asked cautiously, "if I weren't aligned with any particular element, but wanted to duplicate the effect?"

Gnome thought for a minute. "It depends. Is this a hypothetical question?"

Yuan replied with just one word. "Kratos."

"Oh," drawled the Summon Spirit. "I guess that's why you brought me a new Earth mage, huh? Come on, Yuan, you're not stupid. Which of us does Kratos have a particular connection to?"

Botta had to rub his eyes, because it looked like Yuan actually blushed at that. No, it wasn't a trick of the lighting. Yuan's face was decidedly red. _So Kratos, the one who usually helps Lord Yuan with the seals, is injured and cannot be healed by normal means._ That explained rather a lot.

"Right. Thank you. Thank you very much, actually." Yuan looked quite relieved.

"Well sure!" chirped Gnome. "You did just bring me a new Earth mage, after all. But in return, you gotta send him to me for training once you're done checking the mana links and stuff." The giant mole grinned at Botta, which was a little intimidating.

"I have no objections," said Yuan. "Botta?"

"I would be most honored," he replied to both of them. Study directly under a Summon Spirit?

Botta could only imagine what his future had in store.


	12. Darkness

Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for my (err, Yuan's) rambling in this chapter. ; (It's not my fault! I swear! Just beause Shadow's my favorite...) Anyway, the long-awaited "Yuan tells Botta about his past" will be in the next chapter. Until then, bear with my weirdness. :D

* * *

Set near the top of a peak in the Fooji Mountains, the Temple of Darkness was the only Tethe'allan seal not easily accessible by foot. This was in part due to the destructive nature of Darkness magic, though it never stopped any truly dedicated necromancer or demonologist from reaching the concentrated powers of Shadow's mana.

The other reason it was more difficult to get to was because of the innate instability of the element of Darkness.

The way the mana link was designed, reflected Yuan to himself, was so that the wakened Summon Spirit channeled mana from the sleeping Summon Spirit of the declining world. In doing so, the particular elemental affiliation of that Summon Spirit was strengthened in the surrounding land – the ground was more fertile when Gnome was awake, rainfall was more regular when Undine was awake, and so on. The only problem with this idea was that Darkness energy came from negative human emotions, which were necessarily higher when Tethe'alla was in decline. That meant that there was a great deal of Shadow's energy spreading around without him awake to control it, and that when he was there guiding it, it was lessened. Compound this with Shadow's fascination with mortals and it was clear why his Temple needed to be in a remote location.

_Plus_, he thought wryly, _light-based mana signatures draw these elementals like a beacon on a cloudless night._ Sometimes it was annoying to be an angelic being, and this was one of those times. Everything else saw Yuan as a primarily Lightning-based mage, but the various elementals, undead, and aberrations that made up the population of the Temple of Darkness seemed to only notice the Light element imposed on Yuan by his Cruxis Crystal. It had gotten so bad when Yuan was travelling with the Chosen's group that he almost blew his cover and started unleashing a few Judgment spells, but he'd managed to convert them to Indignation spells at the last minute (except against the seal guardian, against which he partially failed and managed to impress the hell out of everyone in the group with an Indignant Judgment).

Shaking his head to clear it, Yuan reached into his pack and brought out two pairs of what looked like goggles. Handing one to Botta, he said "We're going to need these to see inside the Temple. As you might have guessed, it's dark in there." He fastened his own goggles – wearing them made everything jump out from the shadows, especially outside the temple like they were now – and started heading into the darkness.

"This is the one you were worried about, Lord Yuan?" Botta's voice seemed to be muffled by the immensity of the cavern, but Yuan knew that once they were farther inside the effect would be lessened. _Or is it just that I get used to hearing everything that way?_ Yuan wasn't sure, but he'd always thought it was because his enhanced hearing came from Light mana and it was just the weakest of his angel senses, and therefore the most severely affected.

"That's right," Yuan confirmed. "I don't sense anything strange yet, but we're still quite far away from the seal. It's located very far underground, even deeper than Gnome's seal, and there's something about it that feels it's not entirely part of the world." He frowned, trying to express the odd sensation in words. "You're at least vaguely familiar with dimensional theory, I hope?"

"It is one of the first things taught to new recruits, sir." Which was entirely as it should be. That Sylvarant and Tethe'alla were two parts of a whole was essential to understand, and yet it was also the secret most closely kept from the humans. Yggdrasill's platitudes of _The puny human minds wouldn't be able to understand it anyway_ and _It's not like they have the magic necessary to travel between the worlds_ notwithstanding (and both disproven by Kratos, whose race Mithos tended to forget), Yuan disliked denying knowledge to anyone. _And yet,_ whispered a tiny voice in the back of his head, _isn't that what you're doing with Botta? Keeping knowledge from him?_

Quashing his inner voice with a guilty promise to tell Botta later, he continued his explanation of the Temple of Darkness's peculiarities. "Well, ever since the earliest records of human civilization, there have been references to a dark underworld that's the home of demons and undead and such." _Though not in elven history, oddly enough._ "Though no one has ever visited such a place and returned alive to tell of it, there's enough circumstantial proof of its existence that Cruxis officially recognizes it and, moreover, that the place the two dimensions are most closely linked is here, in the Darkness Temple. Shadow is charged with both controlling the mana flow from the seal of Light in Sylvarant and with containing the forces of the Underworld so that it doesn't break though. There's not an actual rift like there is at the Otherworldly Gate that connects Tethe'alla and Sylvarant, but enough of the Underworld's power leaks through that this temple is home to a great number of undead, demons, and the like."

Botta frowned. Yuan had noticed that he did that whenever he was trying to mentally process something complex, so he just waited. Sure enough, before long he was rewarded with Botta's thoughts. "So," Botta began hesitantly, "Shadow has more responsibility than the others, but the same amount of power?"

"Exactly. And because of that responsibility, he's never really had the time to study and understand us 'mortals' like the others have." That had led to some disastrous attempts of humans to try and harness Shadow's power, since he didn't really understand how to prevent them from doing so. The Shadow Priests of Sybak were still used in fairy tales to frighten children, and the poor cursed bloodline of the Devil's Arms had never truly been eliminated. "Shadow doesn't speak very much at all – Volt once told me it was because the way Shadow thinks is so different from the way the rest of us perceive things, even the other Summon Spirits. All this means in relation to our current mission is that if there's something wrong with the mana link, he probably won't be able to tell us what it is." Yuan sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. If something were wrong, he'd probably have to call in Mithos to try and figure it out, thereby ruining a perfectly good vacation.

"Then we had best be prepared for the worst," Botta said decisively, "and pray to Martel that it is not so."

Yuan winced, and began to lead Botta down into the Temple.


	13. Enlightenment

Author's Note: Okay okay, the much-awaited background chapter. I though about ending it here, actually, but there are still some things that I haven't resolved, so it'll keep going for a while. Thanks to everyone who is reading this! I love you all. :D

* * *

Once they'd finally made it down to Shadow's seal, Yuan seemed to relax. Indeed, except for the "flavor" of Darkness mana, the flow and concentration were much the same as at the other seals. Yuan set up the diagnostic device with little trouble, then sighed and sat down, his back resting against the raised pedestal of the seal.

"I said I'd tell you my story," Yuan said, "and we aren't going to find any place more private than the depths of the Temple of Darkness."

Botta nodded, arranging himself cross-legged on the floor.

"Let's start off with what you know," temporized the Seraph. "You've probably read the Central Kharlan Computer files on Cruxis Crystals, the angel transformation, and the Seraphim."

Botta nodded. "The article on the Seraphim was very unhelpful, sir."

Yuan chuckled. "You mean, that it didn't mention our names or why we hold that position." Botta nodded again. Yuan hesitated. This was the part that he didn't like telling, but he'd promised. "Well, despite what some of the angels think, it's not a position that one can be promoted into. It's a position reserved for those of us who knew Yggdrasill before—before Cruxis came into existence, even." Yuan ceased breathing for a moment. He knew Botta was capable of figuring out what that meant.

"Cruxis has guided the development of the world since it was split in two," Botta said slowly. "You're saying you and Kratos and Yggdrasill have known each other for thirty-five hundred years."

Yuan nodded.

"The file says there are four Seraphim."

Yuan closed his eyes. "The title of Seraph is also reserved for Martel in the even that she should wake." _Dead, dead, you saw her die!_ raged a part of Yuan's consciousness, but it wasn't enough to send him into despair like it once had. Now he just felt a deep sadness, and he expected he always would.

Botta continued after a moment. "You're really that old?"

"I don't blame you if you don't believe me, but yes. The four of us were born during the Kharlan War. It was…a terrible conflict." Yuan repressed a shudder. "Entire cities were destroyed with little provocation, and the weapons that both sides used were so steeped in destructive mana that the Great Kharlan Tree couldn't bear the strain anymore and withered. Oh, how Martel wept at that. In the end, we succeeded in saving the seed of the Great Tree, but at a tremendous cost. The world regeneration legend states that Mithos sacrificed his life to take the place of the Great Tree, but that could hardly be farther from the truth." Now it was bitterness that crept into Yuan's tone. "It was Martel who died, and Mithos who ascended into the heavens. And in order to prevent the war from beginning again after he'd gotten Sylvarant and Tethe'alla to sign the truce, he split them into two and decreed that neither should have the mana necessary to let magitechnology develop to the point where it could be used as a weapon. To that end, he won't let the Great Seed sprout. He…" Yuan swallowed. But he'd come this far; there was no reason to stop now. "Instead, he used Martel's Cruxis Crystal to merge her body with the Great Seed, using its mana to preserve her in a state between life and death…and he's spent more than three thousand years trying to bring her back from the dead."

He stopped, as much to curb his inner pain as to give Botta time to digest that. _Please make some of the connections for yourself so I don't have to spell it all out for you_, he asked silently.

"Mithos – that's the hero Mithos?" Nod. "Martel's…brother?" Nod. Then, tentatively, "Lord Yggdrasill?"

Nod.

Botta exhaled, looking very troubled. "That surely isn't common knowledge, is it?"

Yuan shook his head. "You won't find it anywhere in the computer system. The Grand Cardinals know, and a few other high-ranked Desians. Most of the angels don't, actually, or rather, they know both stories but don't make the connection. It _is_ common knowledge in Heimdall among the elves that live there. That's one reason half-elves generally aren't liked there – although were it not for Mithos and Martel's exile in the first place, he never would have been so angry as to form the Desians. Conversely, if it weren't for the Desians, people wouldn't generally feel so strongly against half-elves all the time." He sighed. "In controlling the Church of Martel, we were in the perfect position to eliminate discrimination forever by adding a few simple clauses to the doctrine, but we were blinded by betrayal and war, and even I wanted humans to suffer for what they'd done to Martel." _Oh Martel, I'm so sorry for that…._

The silence after that statement was prolonged. Yuan half-expected Botta to just get up and leave, but instead Botta replied with something that Yuan hadn't expected in the slightest.

"What made you change?"

"What?"

Even through the special goggles they had to wear in the Temple of Darkness, Yuan could see Botta's intense gaze fixed on him. "One of the first things you said to me was that you don't possess the same hatred towards humans that most of Cruxis does. Why did your attitude change when Lord Yggdrasill's stayed the same?"

Yuan privately upped his personal estimation of Botta's observational skills by several magnitudes. "I'm not entirely certain myself," he admitted, "but it was very gradual." _That's a good question. I'm note entirely sure I know the answer myself._ "Some time around the third Sylvarant regeneration, when we first started getting mana signatures that were reasonably similar to Martel's, I began to wonder if she would even approve of the idea of an innocent sacrificing themselves to bring her back. When I realized that she certainly would _not_ approve, that was the beginning of the end for me. She…She was always the kind of person who would take burdens upon herself to save people from pain. The idea that someone would go through the sort of pain required for the angel transformation for her sake would be…I can't see her accepting that, I just can't. She loved every living thing in the world, regardless of if it was human or half-elf or even animal or plant. And, well, once I started looking at things objectively, I realized I was being hypocritical."

Yuan smiled bitterly in remembrance. "Everything I had done, I had done for the love of Martel. And everything I had done, she would have despised. And so I came to realize that the only way I could make up for the things I'd helped Cruxis to do would be to undo them as much as I could. And so you see me coming down to the surface to help out the Chosen, and to give comfort and support to his family when he's gone. You see me doing everything I can to ensure that neither world declines too far and that the mana links are working correctly."

"Everything I have seen of you so far reinforces my impression of you as compassionate, Lord Yuan," said Botta quietly.

"Thank you. But what I have been doing isn't enough. It isn't enough that the worlds are surviving – though sometimes it takes everything I have just to see to that. It's prosperity that isn't happening. And therein lays the hardest choice. If we allow the worlds to prosper, they can develop destructive magitechnology – yet it's more destructive, over time, to have a world be in decline half the time. As the so-called 'organization that guides the world', we should be teaching people how to use mana responsibly so that they won't build machines with the destructive power of Thor's Hammer in the first place. But Yggdrasill is so intent on bringing Martel back to life that he ignores everything she once stood for, making each world suffer in turn and using humans in terrible experiments."

"And you don't feel like you can leave Cruxis to try and bring prosperity back to the world?"

Yuan shook his head. "Mithos would kill me. He values me as a tool, nothing more. The knowledge I have is far too dangerous to be spread, or so he believes. And he's right – if people knew that it was his attempts to resurrect Martel that are all that keeps the Great Seed from sprouting and sending the world back into prosperity…."

Botta looked startled. "That's it?"

"It's a little more complicated than that, but essentially yes. I told you earlier that he managed to fuse Martel's body to the Great Seed?" Botta nodded. Yuan hesitated. He hadn't ever actually told this to anyone before. "Well, I ran a calculation through the Central Kharlan Computer System once that confirmed that the awakening of one would mean the death of the other. If Martel awakens, the Great Seed, source of the world's mana, will die. And awakening the Great Seed would mean that Martel would be lost to us forever." Yggdrasill had to know that. Why else would he refuse to awaken the Great Seed? And yet, if he succeeded in resurrecting his sister…the angels would be fine, because of Derris-Kharlan's mana, but at the price of all other life.

"But she's _dead_," he continued. "It took me nearly two thousand years to accept that, but I have. Martel was without a doubt the strongest, most wonderful, beautiful, amazing person I have ever met, but she's gone. The price of the world for her resurrection is not a price she would ever willingly pay, and so I cannot in good conscience bring that to happen."

Yuan sighed. "There, I've as much as admitted to high treason. Bring this information to the attention of anyone in Cruxis and I'll most likely be killed, usefulness to Lord Yggdrasill notwithstanding." He closed his eyes. This really had been a bad idea, hadn't it? And yet, it felt so good to finally be honest with someone.

"And if I do tell someone," Botta asked sharply, "wouldn't that mean the end of the world? If what you said is true, then be it in a hundred years or a thousand, Lord Yggdrasill will eventually succeed." To Yuan's complete surprise, Botta got up, bowed, and formally offered Yuan the hilt of his sword. "The world is not a price I am willing to pay either, Lord Yuan. If there is any way I can help you against Lord Yggdrasill, I will."

Yuan stood up and accepted the weapon. He didn't bother to ask Botta if he was sure – his language had made that clear enough. "Thank you, Botta. For believing me, I mean." Botta just nodded.

The mana link monitor beeped, indicating that it had detected no abnormalities in the flow between worlds. As he packed it up, Yuan said one last thing to Botta:

"Then we have much to do in these last two weeks."

* * *

Author's Note: Psst, Yuan, you forgot to mention that she was your fiancee. 


	14. Latheon Gorge

Author's Note: If any of you didn't recieve responses to the reviews for the alst chapter, I'm sorry...my wireless was being hiccuppy, but FFN claims that I've sent you all responses, so I think you should be okay.

This chapter is dedicated to Laoris, who always tugs my sleeve when he's trying to get my attention.

* * *

The Houses of Guidance in Tethe'alla were certainly, Botta thought to himself, proof that the two worlds had developed along different paths. Despite the superficial similarity – the two-storied design with sleeping quarters on the second floor – the Houses of Guidance were square instead of round, stone instead of wood, and instead of being located on common waypoints between cities their placement seemed to be completely random. He could not, for example, fathom the reasoning behind putting a House of Guidance down here on the southern continent on the far side of the mountains from Heimdall. There was, as far as he could tell, no human civilization closer than Altamira, and if it were here for the sake of travelers to and from the elven village, surely it would be on the same side of the mountain range?

Yuan had just shaken his head and said "There's an abbey even more remote than this one down on an otherwise uninhabited island. You're used to thinking that you can walk anywhere, but here in Tethe'alla people think of boats as the major form of transportation. But you're essentially right; this location was chosen for an entirely different reason. You see, we're directly across from Latheon Gorge." But he'd refused to explain what significance that had, and since Botta had never heard of Latheon Gorge before he could only surmise that there was something important there.

Yuan's priest disguise provided them with a convenient excuse to visit the waypoint, since priests were expected to go on pilgrimages every few years. However, they didn't actually enter the grounds, instead circling around the main building to one of the smaller outbuildings that was up against a rocky cliff face. It looked like a storage building to Botta, but there was a well-tended flowerbed near the entrance full of beautiful white flowers. Ignoring the building, Yuan knelt down and softly caressed one of the flowers. A surge of mana so slight that Botta barely even noticed it turned the flower from white to blue, and Yuan stood up with a smile.

"There," he said. "Now we come back in about an hour, and if it turns green we're welcome to visit the Elven Storyteller. You see, one of the most ancient magical techniques used by the elves is sympathetic magic – in this case, with something innocuous like flowers. You're familiar with sympathetic magic?"

Botta nodded, trying to remember what he'd learned. "If two objects are similar enough, what is done to one will affect the other? But I wasn't aware that it could be used with living things as well…."

"Normally, it doesn't work with living beings. This particular type of flower was developed and bred to specifically respond to changes in the mana flows, and there's a strain of the same breed that grows in the Storyteller's garden. We've used this method for some time to get permission to visit without having to go through the Heimdall Elders."

"Why does the Storyteller live in Latheon Gorge and not Heimdall?" It seemed obvious to Botta that Yuan held a great deal of respect for the Storyteller, so naturally he was curious. Did the Storyteller have something to do with germinating the Great Seed, like Yuan had mentioned at the Temple of Darkness?

"It is the duty of one elf per generation to keep the history of their race – which is more or less the history of the world. They live away from the village so that the history won't be tainted by current attitudes, and because Latheon Gorge is the only place where the Mana Leaf Herb grows, which the Storyteller uses to make a record of the stories. It's important that we visit for two reasons: first, because I am going to give him the official Cruxis version of the most recent Regeneration, and secondly because I think it's important that you know the full story of the Ancient War from a neutral perspective, which I am not," said Yuan, fiddling with one of his rings. "If we are to work together to restore the two worlds to their original state, we're going to have to be very careful about how we do it. The last thing anyone wants is to bring back the war that caused them to split in the first place."

Botta nodded his agreement. Even now, when Yuan's dreams had barely been voiced, Botta knew that it would take centuries to accomplish anything significant. Cruxis's control was too complete to think otherwise, but it was humbling to think that he'd gone from a simple servant to a partner for a life's work in the space of a few words.

It was a good thing that Botta was a patient man.

Just as he was beginning to feel drowsy from the warm sunlight, Yuan's voice snapped Botta out of his reverie. "There!" Sure enough, the flower Yuan had earlier made blue was now a deep green color. "Come on, the entrance is through this shed."

It was dark inside the storage building, but coming from the end set against the cliff face was a familiar concentration of mana. _An oracle stone?_ Not quite, but it activated when Yuan brought out his wings, causing a panel to slide open and reveal a dark tunnel leading off to, Botta suspected, the other side of the mountain range and Latheon Gorge. At a gesture from Yuan, Botta entered the tunnel first. Yuan followed and the panel slid shut with a quiet _click_.

_Gnome was right_, he thought to himself. _The mana down here feels almost like it did in the Earth Temple._ Botta "felt" along the natural pathways of mana and, sure enough, the tunnel continued in one direction all the way to the other side of the mountain. Set along regular intervals were globes in the ceiling that lit up as the half-elves approached, and then faded back into darkness when they'd passed.

"We built this tunnel some time ago," said Yuan, his voice echoing down the narrow passageway, "but it doesn't get used more than a few times a century. Still, it has its uses."

After a few miles, just when Botta was sensing that the other end of the tunnel was close, he became aware of a deep noise not unlike the background _buzz_ of electricity in Volt's temple. Frowning, he quickened his pace to try and figure out what was causing it. The air seemed to be growing thicker even as the sunlight reaching in from the tunnel's egress brightened, though the light was oddly muffled, as though by….

Botta laughed when he realized his mistake. The noise wasn't being caused by electricity – in fact by its very opposite. The tunnel's exit was concealed, or so it appeared from this side, by a giant waterfall. "Sir?" he asked Yuan. "There is a way out of here that doesn't require us to travel _directly_ in the path of that waterfall?"

Yuan laughed as well. "There's a ledge," he answered. "It's a better disguise than you'd think – this place is riddled with caves."

The ledge was wide enough for four or five people, but most of the space was taken up by an odd plant that was rhythmically blowing gusts of air behind the curtain of water. _What a strange plant._ The gusts were going in the direction opposite of the way the ledge extended, though, so Botta ignored it and followed Yuan into direct sunlight and the side of the waterfall. Once he was out from underneath it, he whistled appreciatively at the size of the torrent. It easily stretched up a thousand meters and down for another fifty, landing in a deep pool and then extending down the length of the gorge out to the ocean, barely visible to the south. Aside from a visit to Lake Umacy as a child, Botta was sure he'd never seen so much fresh water in his life.

Yuan tugged on Botta's sleeve to get his attention. "I'm afraid there's no real path," his boss apologized, "so unless you feel like practicing your Wind magic I'm going to have to carry you up."

Botta eyed the drop suspiciously. "I will take my chances with you, sir."

A short (but nerve-wracking) flight later, Yuan landed them on a walkway leading to a comfortable-looking house surrounded by a large garden. A green flower identical to the one down at the House of Guidance turned back into white with a touch from Yuan, who then called out a greeting to the house.

"Come in, Yuan," said a voice as the front door opened. "I've been expecting you."


	15. Tea and the Storyteller

It always seemed to Yuan that time moved very slowly at the Storyteller's house. It didn't stand still, like in Welgaia, but the cycle of flourishing and declining hardly seemed to have an impact on the quiet little residence next to the waterfall. Each Storyteller added his or her own flavor, of course, and even though this one was young by elven standards he was already comfortable with his surroundings. Yuan had only spoken to him a few times, but he had always come away with the impression of strength behind an unassuming exterior.

"I hope you don't mind that I've brought a visitor," Yuan apologized after they'd been invited inside.

"That's quite all right," said the Storyteller, motioning for the two of them to sit down while he took a kettle off the fire. "I don't get visitors often enough to refuse them. Would you care for some tea?"

"Please," responded Yuan, and Botta nodded as well. "I brought you the Cruxis report of the Regeneration," he continued. "I'd also wanted to ask you if you knew of any cure for mana burn, but I discovered a solution on my own. I'm still curious if you know anything about it, though."

"Mana burn?" said the Storyteller. "Ymir fruit usually helps. I'd like to know your solution, but also what in the name of the Great Tree you were doing that caused mana burn."

"Trying to force something made of Light mana into something tainted with Darkness mana, which exploded. It hit me on the arm, but got most of Kratos's body. My burn fixed itself after I spent some quality time with Volt, and Gnome suggested that Kratos might feel better after doing the same at Origin's seal." Yuan smiled. "If that doesn't work, I'll try and get some Ymir fruit. By the way, this is Botta."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Botta. It isn't often I get a chance to speak with half-elves," the Storyteller said as he poured the delicious-smelling tea into three mugs and handed the drink to his guests.

"Thank you," said Botta. "I do not believe I have ever spoken with a full-blooded elf before, either."

"Botta's from Sylvarant," explained Yuan, "so he hasn't had a whole lot of opportunity to meet elves. I brought him here because he needs to know certain things if we are to work together, and I was hoping you'd be willing to do me a favor and tell him the history of the Kharlan War." _I hope he doesn't refuse. There are…some aspects of history that I don't like thinking about._

The Storyteller raised an eyebrow. "You're certain? The story includes some rather unflattering actions of yours, as you are no doubt aware."

Botta looked sharply at Yuan, who shrugged. "I won't make any excuses. What's important is that I'm working to rectify my mistakes, and Botta has expressed a desire to help me. I think it's important enough that he know everything; if he chooses not to work with me after he knows the full scope of what it is we're working against I won't hold a grudge."

"You've given me many opportunities to leave," said Botta quietly. "Anything that seems impossible to me will surely be even more difficult for someone working alone."

"So you've finally found someone to aid you," said the storyteller thoughtfully. He turned his gaze on Botta, studying him intently. "Tell me about yourself, Botta."

Botta blinked, looking slightly confused. "My name is Botta Segli. I am 68 years old and have lived most of my life in Triet, the desert in Sylvarant near the Seal of Fire. I have visited most of the other places in Sylvarant, as well as many cities and seals in Tethe'alla recently, but I had a place in Triet to call my home." His voice lowered. "When my mother died, I no longer had that place. I was approached by a recruiter from the Desians and, having no other place to turn, I joined them. It was…not pleasant. Fortunately, Lord Yuan needed a personal assistant and chose me to fill that position." He glanced sideways at Yuan before continuing. "Lord Yuan has been most instructive about the nature of the two worlds and their relationship. I believe he is correct in thinking that allowing this cycle of foundation and destruction is not in the best interests of the world, and I am willing to do what it takes to help him in this endeavor."

Yuan was impressed. So, apparently, was the Storyteller, because he smiled and said "Good. Yuan's request or not, this knowledge is dangerous to those who would use it to destructive ends and I would prefer not to share it with those without the resolve to use it."

Botta inclined his head. "That is my intent."

"Then, by your leave, I would like to leave Botta here for a few days," said Yuan. "You're very much correct when you said that my role in history has not always been exactly flattering, and I'd like for him to have some time to digest the story before we take the next step." _I couldn't forget those years if I tried, but at least I can spare myself the pain of having to listen to my actions through another's eyes…._

"Sir?" asked Botta, looking a little hurt. "You're going to leave without me?"

"Only for a day or two," Yuan replied, feeling a little guilty. Botta tended to make him feel guilty. Yuan wasn't exactly sure why. "You've given me some good ideas, Botta, but we aren't going to be able to do everything on our own. There are some people I'd like to contact that, frankly, aren't supposed to be alive anymore – Cruxis tends to eliminate its enemies, and I don't want to risk any of them being discovered. If they'll agree to join us, that will be another story, but until then I'd like to keep them as anonymous as possible."

Botta nodded. "I see. In that case, I wish you the best of luck."

The Storyteller smiled. "Before you leave, Yuan, would you like to see my latest weavings?" It was the Storyteller's special talent to spin the near-mythical Mana Leaf Herb into a special kind of cloth that, when the proper technique was applied, was used to record history and fable alike. The 'latest weavings' were likely the most recent histories to be recorded, and Yuan indicated that he would very much like to see them.

The Storyteller led the two half-elves into the back section of his sizeable dwelling. Here there was a room that had a treasure whose worth was beyond reckoning, though to human eyes it would appear to be merely piles upon piles of shimmering fabric. The elf reverently picked up a length of cloth about the size of a shawl and held it up for Yuan and Botta to see.

Yuan traced a finger over the pattern in the cloth. It had always fascinated him how a mere plant could store data more efficiently than the most advanced computer systems, but he could no more decode it than read a message in the clouds. "What is this one about?" he asked, curious.

"King Tethe'alla relocating his residence to the palace in Meltokio for the ninth time, along with the most recent version of the Legend of Spiritua and the bestowing of the Oracle to Umbran, the Chosen." The Storyteller placed the cloth back in its spot among the others and led them out.

"Ah! That reminds me," said Yuan, digging through his pouch for the sheaf of papers he'd printed out from the Central Kharlan Computer System. "Here's a copy of the official Cruxis account of the last Journey of Regeneration, as well as my own personal version of the events. Use them as you will."

"Thank you. It is, as always, greatly appreciated," said the smiling elf, accepting the papers and placing them on a table.

"Well, then, I suppose I'm off," said Yuan, opening the door and revealing his angel wings. _I know you want to come with me, Botta, but this is a danger I don't want to expose you to yet._ It wasn't that Yuan didn't trust Botta – he did, and it surprised him to think about it – but he _was_ more confident of his own skills to travel incognito.

"Lord Yuan! Wait!" called Botta. Yuan turned around, raising an eyebrow at him. "Be careful." When Yuan rewarded him with a strange look, Botta quickly added "I would not like to try to descend from here alone."

Yuan smiled. "Don't worry," he reassured Botta, and with that he flew off into Tethe'alla's sky.


	16. In Flight

Author's Note: It's a little short this time, sorry. whaps the Internet into submission Work, dangit!

* * *

Climbing higher and higher into the atmosphere, Yuan scanned the sky in all directions for something that didn't quite belong. Finally catching a glimpse of it, he sped off towards the dark blob that resolved itself into the most bizarre – yet undoubtedly one of the most successful – experiments that Yggdrasill had ever conducted.

Exire was the home and safe haven for half-elves that no other place, even Welgaia, could ever really be. There were only two standing rules, established by Mithos at the city's founding. First, there was to be absolutely no judgment based on race in Exire. Human, elf, or half-elf didn't matter at all – though humans lacked the magic necessary to reach the city in the first place. If a human was seen in Exire, it was assumed that they were there as someone's guest and were treated civilly as such. Elves were very uncommon, but from time to time there was one who would call Exire home. These elves were usually outcasts from Heimdall and often the parent of one or more half-elves themselves. The other rule of Exire was simple. Any half-elf who sought sanctuary, whether from humans or elves or even Cruxis itself, received it. This blanket benevolence did not extend to humans or elves, but in the interests of keeping as many half-elves alive as possible Mithos had held to this rule as a necessity. Considering that he believed that he could win any of them to his side again anyway, it wasn't that much of a sacrifice for the leader of Cruxis and the Desians. All in all, it was a very peaceful, very magical, very boring place to live.

Still, there had been times when peaceful and boring were exactly what Yuan needed to keep himself sane.

It wouldn't be entirely accurate to say that _everyone_ in Exire knew him. He wasn't a frequent visitor, but he was a visitor, and those were fairly rare. He was also the only angelic visitor they were ever likely to get, and he often helped the residents make supply runs to the surface (a city in the sky being unable to provide much in the way of raw materials). Even so, there were only a few faces that Yuan didn't recognize. He would have to ask, later, whose child that little red-headed girl was, or where that man he didn't recognize came from. First, though, he had business to attend to.

Yuan knocked on the door to the top level of the largest building in Exire. "Who is it?" called a muffled voice.

"It's Yuan. If that's Julius in there, I'd like to speak to you." _I hope it's him. People don't always stay in Exire for very long…._

To Yuan's relief, the person who opened the door was indeed the one he sought. Julius was on the muscular side for a half-elf, though he tended towards magic rather than physical strength if challenged to battle. "Lord Yuan," he said, bowing. "I hadn't expected to see you again for some time. Please, come in." He motioned for Yuan to enter and offered him a chair, though Yuan declined, instead pacing back and forth while he decided what to say.

Finally, Yuan stopped and looked straight at the other half-elf. "I've decided to start on a project, and I'm going to need help," Yuan began.

"I won't work for Cruxis," Julius interrupted, touching a long scar that crisscrossed one of his arms. "Not for those bastards that stole my brother. If you've come here to recruit me, you're wasting your time."

Yuan smiled brightly. "But you see, that's exactly it. I'm not asking you to work for Cruxis. If I were, I'd just recruit help from them. No, this is something that I can't let Cruxis know about, which is why I thought of you."

Julius sat down. "I'm listening."

"Good. It's going to require a lot of undercover work, but the end result will be something they wont' like, and, hopefully, won't see coming. I can't really discuss more right now, but I want to hold a preliminary meeting in a few days with the interested parties."

Julius raised an eyebrow. "Count me in. Where is this meeting going to be held, and when?"

Yuan hadn't actually thought that far ahead. "It should probably be here in Tethe'alla somewhere," he mused. "And it should be isolated, so people don't wander in on us by accident…. How about the Lightning Temple in four days' time, about noon?"

"I'll be there," Julius promised. Hesitantly, he added, "I think there may be some others in Exire who would be interested as well. Should I mention this to them, or attend the meeting first and then ascertain whether or not they should get involved?"

"Bring them. I'd like to get an estimate of what kind of resources I'll have to work with, and how many more people I'm going to need to recruit. But you're going to have to know ahead of time: this is going to be a dangerous undertaking. We're going to be working against the most powerful organization in the world and if we're caught, we're dead." _Though if the Great Seed dies, so will all life on this planet._ Oh, Yuan himself would be safe, and anyone else on Derris-Kharlan, but Sylvarant and Tethe'alla would both decline and fall without mana.

Julius's eyes narrowed. "Better dead at the hands of the Desians than killing people in their name. 'Inferior beings' or not, we wouldn't exist without humans. It's past time that some of us admit to that and stand up against Cruxis."

Yuan smiled. "Good. I'll see you in a few days, then." He paused at the door frame, then turned around and faced Julius again. "I can't promise that we will or won't directly fight the Desians," he said, "but I can and will try to avoid making you face your brother. I do know that he's still alive and still in Pronyma's legion." _And rising steadily in the ranks._

Julius sighed. "I hate to think of it," he said. "I hate to think of my little baby brother torturing people for power and prestige, and using up the world's mana when everyone else is suffering. But if he's still alive, there's a chance he can be saved, I suppose. In any case, thank you for thinking of me. I'll see you soon."

Yuan nodded and left. Over time, he'd seen enough of the special pain that seemed to follow half-elves and their siblings that he was secretly grateful he'd never had a brother or sister. It was hard enough to keep on Kratos and Mithos's good sides without being related to them. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Julius, though. His little brother had joined up with the Desians rather than live a life constantly moving from town to town trying to find acceptance and it had hit Julius hard. _But if we germinate the Great Seed,_ Yuan thought as he flew off to his next destination, _there won't be a need for Desians anymore. And if half-elves stop doing horrible things to humans, we might even be able to make ourselves a place in the world, one that doesn't have to float in the sky and be cut off from society._ Yes. He had to keep thinking that – no, he corrected himself, he had to keep working towards that.

After all, if half-elves could be accepted in society, even Julius could live together with his brother.

Magnius.


	17. World of the Ancients

Autho's Note: Woot, 17 chapters and counting. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! This one took longer to write cause it doesn't have Yuan in it...sniffle...

* * *

The Elven Storyteller brought out a long cloth, somewhat reminiscent of the wide cloths used for turbans in Triet to keep the worst of the sun and sand at bay, and seated himself in a comfortable chair by his fireplace. The cloth shimmered in the light, partially from the texture of the fabric and partly from the way the ambient mana seemed to gather about it.

Botta blinked. _Ambient mana? I must be picking up vocabulary from Lord Yuan._

The Storyteller had removed his cowl and now he closed his eyes, tracing the cloth reverently. Botta had been surprised at how young he was – from the Storyteller's voice alone, he had gotten the impression of timelessness that he'd only before seen in very old humans – but then, Botta reflected, he did hold the history of the world in his hands.

"The art of weaving the Mana Leaf Herb into a story goes back many thousands of years to the time when the elves first descended from Derris-Kharlan and brought with them the ancestors of many of the animals and plants alive today," began the Storyteller in his sonorous voice. "Birth and death, triumph amid tragedy, the rise and fall of empires – all these are recorded here for those who have the skill to interpret the weaving. Every generation sees one born who can instinctively follow the currents of magic and weave words and plant together to continue the history of the world, choosing to live alone and continue the work free of outside influences." The Storyteller's eyes opened and fixed their emerald gaze on Botta. "I was called to this position in my youth as the old Storyteller faded from life, and today I share the ancient art with you.

"In my hands I hold the story of Mithos the Hero, which is the story of the end of the Kharlan War and the founding of Cruxis." The Storyteller lightly grasped one end of the cloth in one hand and laid his palm gently down on it with the other. "Long ago, when the two worlds were one and the Kharlan Tree watched over us all…."

Botta leaned back in his own chair and relaxed, closing his eyes as images painted by the Storyteller's words began to flow in his mind. Here was the world, huge and splendid, with no Tower of Salvation but instead a giant tree spreading its roots to anchor all living beings within its reach, and here was the forest that housed Heimdall….

"Mithos was the second child in a mixed family. Though Heimdall and, by default, most of the elves had remained neutral in the intense power struggle between the human nations, ambassadors from both sides had been accepted in the village and were allowed to plead their nations' cases before the Council of Elders. The ambassador from Sylvarant (which was a country then, and not a world) was a poor relation of the Balacruf family looking to improve his station in life by triumphantly bringing home the elven nation as an ally. Indeed, he had been so attentive to our ways and culture that he ignored his King's edict to marry a noble of his country's choosing and had instead married a beautiful, young elven maiden named Mystral.

"The ambassador's name was Hakon Yggdrasill.

"In those days, before the rending of the world, unions between human and elf were exceedingly rare, and no one knew quite what to expect of their children. Their firstborn, a beautiful girl named Martel, caught everyone's hearts with her grace and beauty. She was taught the ways of the forest from her youngest days and showed a strong talent for the elusive healing arts. With such an auspicious beginning, their second child was highly anticipated. Though Mystral miscarried once, she and Hakon desired a son. Despite her declining health, she decided to persevere, and in blood and pain Mithos was born.

"Mystral survived thanks to her daughter's healing arts, but it was as though she had poured all her remaining life into her son. Her husband pleaded with her not to leave him, but she did not have the strength to continue anymore, and within a year she had passed away.

"It was at this time that the Great Kharlan Tree, source of all mana, began to wither.

"Isolated as they were, the elves had no idea this was due to overuse of mana by the human countries. All they knew was that their beloved Mystral had died after giving birth to a half-breed and the Great Tree reflected their grief. Declaring that humans had only brought sadness to the village, the ambassadors were turned out and Mithos and Martel were exiled.

"Hakon, a broken shadow of his former self, brought his children to the city of Midgard that he called home. There, he threw himself into his duties, leaving Martel to care for her brother as best she could. He still loved his children, but every time he looked at them he saw that shadow of what he'd lost and so he kept his distance. The other humans in the city, though respectful of their noble blood, saw too much that was strange about Mithos and Martel and not enough of what was familiar. Though the prejudice against them was nowhere near the levels it would reach in the years to come, the half-elves were never truly accepted and Mithos grew to love his sister alone of everyone in the world.

"When Mithos was eight years old, their father fell ill and Martel's healing skills could not save him. On his deathbed he apologized to his children for leaving them alone and told them that he'd been trying to find the cause of the Great Tree's illness so they could return home. He thought it was due to the amount of mana consumed in the research and manufacture of magitechnology weapons that Sylvarant and Tethe'alla had been developing. There was no open conflict yet, he told them, but if it should ever erupt into a full-fledged war, the mana would be overused and the Great Tree would die. He begged his children to find a way for the world to survive but, knowing it would be fruitless without a great deal of power, he gave into Martel's keeping a set of four magical crystals he'd obtained from Sylvarant's top secret laboratories. 'Use these crystals to bring peace to the world,' he said, and died.

"Martel accepted the crystals, which were arranged in their box in the shape of a cross and labeled 'CRUXIS', and decided to go on a journey and see Tethe'alla for herself. Surely, she thought, if the governments of the two nations knew that they were dooming themselves, they would stop the war and save the Great Tree. It was a very brave course of action for someone who, by elven standards, was still a child, but Martel was now twenty years old. Mithos, vowing to protect his sister, took up his father's sword and accompanied her – though the sword was much too large for a child of eight. Together they began to make their way across the land, determined to bring peace to the world.

"It was far more difficult than they imagined. Everywhere they went, the half-elves were marked as 'different', and when the world was at war different meant distrust and discrimination. Finally, when a merchant in a small town near the Tethe'alla border would not sell food to the weary half-elves, a voice broke in over the merchant's accusation that the half-elves were spies.

"'If they were spies, they would hardly go around acting so suspicious,' said the voice. 'You are more than welcome to share my campsite and the food I have.' Turning, they saw a man dressed in mercenary gear with a sword similar to the one Mithos carried. He looked the same age as Martel, perhaps slightly older, and he smiled at them. 'You will forgive my curiosity, I hope, but it is rare to see half-elves travelling the roads.'

"Surprised that he had recognized their race – if anything, people thought they were elves – Mithos and Martel followed the human, who introduced himself as Kratos, to a campsite at the edge of town. There, they received yet another surprise: tending the fire was another half-elf, the first Mithos and Martel had ever seen. Martel and the stranger stared at each other in shock until Mithos broke the silence by giggling.

"'Now I know why you recognized us,' Mithos said to Kratos.

"'Indeed', replied the human. 'This is Yuan, who has been my friend since childhood.' He went on to explain how their village had been wiped out by plague when they were younger and the only survivors had been Yuan, Kratos, and Kratos's mother, who had raised the boys as brothers."

"Excuse me," interrupted Botta. The Storyteller raised an eyebrow at him. He blushed, embarrassed to have interrupted the narrative. "What is 'plague'?" He'd never heard the word before. Was it some kind of monster, perhaps?

The Storyteller smiled. "Plague is a generic term for any disease severe enough to strike down entire populations, often killing at least a third of its victims and sometimes everyone who contracts it. All known forms of plague were eliminated by Cruxis in the first century after the worlds were split. Criticize them as we do, even the elves recognize that as a great deed. It was no doubt Kratos and Yuan's doing, and for that alone they have my respect."

Botta shuddered. Sickness so severe it infected everyone around it? He was very glad that such a thing didn't exist anymore. "Thank you," he said. "I did not mean to interrupt."

The Storyteller nodded. "We should perhaps stop there for tonight," he said, glancing out the now-darkened windows. "There is much more to tell, and Yuan was entirely right on insisting that it would take more than one day to finish." Folding up the story cloth, he motioned for Botta to take the guest room near the back of the house. "We shall begin again tomorrow after breakfast."

"Thank you," Botta said again. Stretching and yawning, he walked over to the back bedroom. _It must be later than I thought_. Images of the ancient world whirling around in his head, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.


	18. Back to the Tower

Edit: Found a typo. Whoops.

* * *

Yuan had not been idle. Travelling in Tethe'alla as part of the Chosen's group for a year had given him many contacts, and before the day was out he had visited most of them. There was only one left, but Yuan wasn't sure exactly where or even if this one could be found. However, Yuan was reasonably certain that his best chance to find the person he was looking for involved going to Sylvarant. And since the moon wasn't full, the only reliable way to Sylvarant from Tethe'alla was through the Tower of Salvation. He'd even be able to cover his own tracks with a legitimate excuse. He'd tell Kratos how to cure his mana burn and use the purple satay as a reason to visit Sylvarant (the stuff was very hard to find and did not, to Yuan's knowledge, grow wild anywhere in Tethe'alla).

How he was going to sneak someone back through with him was something Yuan hadn't figured out yet.

Yuan frowned, considering the problem as the transporter hummed to life. _I could take him through the maintenance tunnels, but they're infested with all sorts of annoying little nasties. I could leave him in the seal room while I change the settings on the transporter, but I'd have to be sure that no one else was around._ He smiled a little to himself as he stepped off the main Welgaia transporter and began walking over to a transporter that would lead him to the medical ward. _I've already accepted that I'm doing things behind Cruxis's back_, he thought to himself. _Moreover, I'm assuming that he'll accept my offer and that I can find him. Hmm. Botta's enthusiasm must be rubbing off on me._

Navigating the mazelike medical ward and trying to remember where Kratos's room was, Yuan called out to him again. "Kratos! You still in here somewhere?"

Angelic hearing being what it was, Kratos heard him and replied, "You're two halls away. I thought you were still on surface leave?"

Yuan pinpointed his friend's voice and zeroed in, appearing in Kratos's doorway before long. He was greeted with the sight of a very bored-looking Kratos attempting to go through a practice routine with a wooden replica of his Flamberge. "I'm not really back yet," Yuan admitted. "You didn't see me here. Shhhhh." Yuan put a finger to his lips, looking shiftily back and forth like a child about to get caught with his hands in the cookie jar.

Kratos laughed and sat down. "What could be important enough to make you come back and visit me, then?"

"It's something Gnome said," replied Yuan seriously. "By the time I'd gotten to the seal of Earth, my mana burn was gone. I couldn't tell what had caused it, but Gnome said that it was due to the way the ambient magic fields in the Lightning Temple interacted with my own personal mana fields. Apparently, when I got close to Volt, my body's mana was similar enough to the ambient mana that the two fields merged, constantly flushing and replenishing my own mana."

"Which cured the burn," Kratos concluded thoughtfully. "And you think the same thing would work if I went to an active seal?"

"It should work if you visit Origin's seal," Yuan clarified, nodding. Kratos had always been quick to follow Yuan's thoughts to their logical conclusion. "That's what Gnome suggested." Well, implied, really, but then Gnome _was_ a little strange.

Kratos cocked his head to one side, looking at Yuan and grinning. "I appreciate you taking your valuable vacation time to tell me," he said.

"Ha! It's in my job description to get you out of trouble." Yuan crossed his arms and mock-glared at Kratos.

"Is it? I thought your job description involved getting me _in_ trouble," Kratos shot back.

_Fair enough, I suppose. He _was_ just trying to protect me._ "I just didn't want you to be angry because I knew of a cure for two weeks and didn't tell you. Mana burn was annoying enough on my hand; I can only imagine what you're going through. The Storyteller also suggested Ymir fruit when I consulted him, so if visiting Origin doesn't work you at least have a backup option."

Kratos nodded, reaching for a pencil and some paper. "Origin's seal or Ymir fruit," he sighed. "Off to Heimdall for me, I suppose. Thank you for discovering this information, Yuan. I hope I can make it up to you some day."

Yuan shrugged. He'd never bothered to keep track of the various favors he and Kratos supposedly owed to each other – what did he have to gain? No, the way Yuan looked at it, Kratos had more than earned any favor Yuan could give just by being there all those years and reminding Yuan that he wasn't alone. He wished he could let Kratos in on his new secret, but unless he could discover a rift between Kratos and Mithos he knew Kratos would stubbornly cling to Mithos's ideals.

"Even so, it may not work," Yuan cautioned Kratos. "Volt _was_ awake at the time."

"It will give me something to do besides sit around and wait for the mana burn to heal," Kratos said. "A little hope is better than none at all."

Yuan bowed. "Then with you leave I'm going to go try and find some purple satay," he said, winking as he straightened up. "They still haven't figured out how to cultivate it efficiently in Tethe'alla."

Kratos waved. "Good luck, Yuan. And thank you again."

Yuan waved and meandered his way back to the transporter, changing the settings so that he'd land in Sylvarant instead of Tethe'alla. He was glad he'd stopped to talk to Kratos, but now it was time to get back to the business at hand.

He took a moment to orient himself upon entering Sylvarant. The mana levels were beginning to show the effects of Umbran's Journey of Regeneration, but it would still be a very long time before they would become low enough for anyone but the most skilled sorcerers to notice a change. It only took him a moment to discern which direction Undine's magic was strongest in, and soon he was flying towards the Thoda Geyser.

Yuan had told Botta that if he ever got in trouble with a powerful sorcerer, the best place to hide would be at the Earth Temple because it would mask his own mana signature. This was a useful piece of advice he'd given before, but it _was_ a little more difficult to hide yourself when you didn't have a particular elemental allegiance. Fortunately, Yuan had just checked the Tethe'alla seals and was reasonably certain that they hadn't been masking anyone. Given this particular person's antipathy towards the Desians, though, his chances of being in the recently-declining world were slim to none. Of the seals in Sylvarant, though, he could easily eliminate most of them.

The Tower of Mana was closely watched by the clergy.

The Triet Ruins were abandoned and anyone living there would have attracted attention by now.

The Balacruf Mausoleum was a possibility, though it was full of traps. If Yuan couldn't find the sorcerer he was looking for at the Thoda Geyser, he intended to check the Balacruf Mausoleum next.

The Seal of Water, however, was nearly perfect for a fugitive. Insanely popular to Sylvarant's tourists, there were so many people coming and going all the time that it would be simplicity itself to conceal someone who didn't want to be found in the crowds.

Yuan could only hope that the boy's tactics had been successful. It would truly be a shame if Cruxis had gotten to him first.


	19. Martel was what?

Edit: Found a typo. Arrgh.

* * *

Botta awoke the next morning feeling refreshed, though his dreams throughout the night had been very strange. Following his nose, he found the Storyteller already awake and preparing breakfast.

"I trust you slept well?" the Storyteller inquired, cracking another egg to add the frying pan.

"Yes, sir," Botta replied. "I was able to picture the story last night with excellent clarity, and my dreams followed along the same lines. Is that normal?"

"Only when you have a vivid imagination, or so I've observed. Yours may be a special case, however, since you have met one of the very characters of legend." The Storyteller looked over his shoulder to grin at Botta before turning his attention back to the omelet. "That does tend to complicate things. In addition, chances are the version of the Mithos legend _you're_ familiar with doesn't mention that he's a half-elf."

"It certainly does not," Botta agreed. "The details of the legend are sketchy, but I gather from what Lord Yuan said that he did _not_ sacrifice his life to take the place of the Giant Kharlan Tree."

"No, he did not – but we are getting ahead of ourselves. Let's eat first."

Breakfast was tasty, as Botta commented to the Storyteller, but the elf claimed it was more a matter of experience than of taste and that once Botta had a few hundred years under his belt he'd be cooking delicious food for every meal. Human cuisine was more varied than elven, he said, but living alone in an isolated gorge (or forest, in the case of Heimdall) only left one with so many options for ingredients.

Armored with a full stomach and a fresh pot of coffee, the Storyteller once again took up his place by the fire. His fingers searched for the place on the magical cloth that he'd left off last time much like a blind man feeling the shape of an object to determine what it was. Botta sighed mentally. Would he ever learn that kind of finesse for handling mana, or was it something only elves and angels could do?

The story that morning continued where they'd left off the night before. The four heroes had met each other and now (in the history) began to search for a way to stop the war. If it was indeed overuse of mana that was causing the withering of the Great Tree, their first course of action was to stop development of the great weapons that were consuming the world's mana. Mithos and Martel, being scions of a noble house, would attempt to convince the leaders of many cities to join the cause of peace. They succeeded occasionally – and when they failed, Kratos and Yuan would take the lead in covert raids on the top secret laboratories, sabotaging experiments when they could. Sometimes they would destroy the experiments, sometimes they would steal essential data, and once, in a particularly riveting section of the story, they helped the last experimental subject escape.

Botta wasn't sure if it was because of the Storyteller's magic or just because he had a vivid imagination, but he had no trouble picturing the events of the Ancient World in his mind's eye. His mental image of the young Mithos was of a hopeful and determined child, like and yet unlike the cruel, powerful visage of Lord Yggdrasill that he'd only seen once. Kratos was lighthearted, yet kept them on track whenever they would get discouraged or distracted. Yuan…well, Yuan looked mostly the same in Botta's mind, only he laughed more.

Martel was beautiful, in every sense of the word. If half the things the Storyteller attributed to her were true (which Botta assumed they were), it was no wonder she had been deified by her brother. He began to pick out from the story those parts of her philosophy that now guided the Church and which Yuan had mentioned, but he was surprised in spite of himself when the Storyteller reached a certain point in the narrative.

"Mithos had reached the point in his training when Kratos could teach him no more, and from that point on they considered themselves equals. Though each branched out into his own style – Mithos being all the more remarkable for not having yet reached ten years of age – they continued to learn together," said the Storyteller. "So, too, did Yuan and Martel. Neither had received a formal schooling in magic, but Yuan had always collected what books and other sources he could obtain and Martel had grown up among elven mages. Their combat skills were growing as well, but none of them even imagined their true potential until the raid on Midgard's own laboratories late one night.

"To Martel's sorrow, their own former hometown had rejected the half-elves' advance of peace, but in the raid that followed they finally learned what kind of legacy their father had left them. There in Midgard, after a year and a half, they finally learned the details of the Cruxis Project.

"The scientists of Sylvarant had developed a material that vastly increased a subject's combat skills, but the material caused near-total instability in the host. Nonetheless, production on the crystals had been continued until, by complete chance, a set which showed extraordinary potential had been created. In the new rush to develop a means of preventing them from upsetting the body's mana flow so that the new crystals could be tested, they had vanished from the lab. Unable to replicate the powerful crystals, they did succeed in developing the precursor of today's Key Crests to act as a balancer and inhibitor to the enhancing power of the crystals they had developed, which they named Exspheres.

"Martel realized the significance of the find at once. Carefully, she memorized the details of the data on Key Crests and copied a picture of one without taking one – for, she reminded the others, taking this knowledge would mean condemning innocent test subjects to life as monsters. They took the data and exited the lab, leaving no sign that they had ever been there.

"They Key Crests, Yuan surmised, would work best if crafted by an expert. Travelling to a dwarf they had allied with early in their travels, the heroes requested that he make Key Crests for them. Upon completion, they equipped the ultimate enhancers: the Cruxis Crystals.

"The results were slow in coming, yet the heroes noticed them immediately. Each spell was easier to complete, each technique more powerful than before. They had gone from being an influential group of diplomats and spies to being a powerful force in combat.

"These powers, though, were not without a price. Mithos, Yuan, and Kratos equipped the Key Crests and negated the effects of the Cruxis Crystals without a problem, but Martel did not. Her body rejected the influence of the crystal and began to turn into crystal itself.

"The others were horrified," the Storyteller continued, seeming to relish in Botta's rapt gaze. "They knew from the hastily copied notes that simply removing the crystal would surely result in Martel's death, yet was she doomed to a painful, fruitless transformation instead? Finally Yuan and Mithos, working together, came up with a theory that might help end Martel's suffering and let her remain herself: a crest similar to the Key Crest, but with harsher inhibitory properties. Her body's mana was being unbalanced, they theorized, not in the chaotic way that people without crests turned into monsters, but rather a reflection of the order of the crystal itself. Since neither Yuan nor Mithos had the knowledge to improve on the Key Crest, however, they fell into despair.

"Martel, bearing her pain with amazing fortitude, suggested they pray to the Great Kharlan Tree for guidance. Seeing no other alternative, the companions followed her to the ancient Holy Ground of Kharlan before the Great Tree and knelt in prayer.

"Whether drawn by their prayer or simply the pain of a pure soul, there appeared at the Great Tree a mythical beast said to be able to cure any wound: the Unicorn. Drawn to Martel, the Unicorn's Horn cured the disease and granted her healing powers unknown to any before her. Though the Unicorn sacrificed its life to give her a second chance, it claimed that such was its destiny and promised to meet her in another life, should she ever need healing again. Its final words were to give the heroes a list of the materials necessary to complete a Rune Crest for Martel so that the crystallizing disease should never repeat itself.

"Overcome by relief at Martel's cure, Mithos swore again to do all in his power to keep her from harm. Kratos offered his blade and his service, and Yuan offered her his heart.

"Yuan Rayson proposed to Martel Yggdrasill under the dying branches of the Great Tree, and she accepted with tears in her eyes."

Botta held up a hand for the Storyteller to pause. _Yuan…proposed to Martel?_ Thoughts whirling around in his head, he finally placed all the hints Yuan had given him into a coherent whole.

_Martel was without a doubt the strongest, most wonderful, beautiful, amazing person I have ever met…._

_Everything I had done, I had done for the love of Martel…._

"Oh Yuan," whispered Botta, forgetting the honorific due his superior, "why didn't you tell me?"


	20. Yuan Gets Drenched

Author's Note: Wow, did I really make it to 20 chapters?? Crazy. Well, I now have a semi-accurate idea of how long this is going to be, total. After this one, if all goes well, there should be three more chapters and an epilogue for a total of 24. Let's see if I'm right...

* * *

It was almost laughably easy to get lost at the resort complex surrounding the Thoda Geyser. Though the geyser (and the Seal of Water) was on an island, there was almost no space on the island itself for the kind of luxuries that the elite of Sylvarant demanded. To meet this demand, a small town of shops and hotels had nestled itself on the mainland coast as close as possible to Thoda Island. Small, magitech boats zipped back and forth between island and shore, ferrying passengers to and from the therapeutic hot springs.

_I do hope he isn't actually inside the temple,_ Yuan thought to himself. It was bad enough visiting the Temple of Darkness, where it seemed like half the creature inside were attracted to his minor Light affinity. It would be a downright nuisance to have to deal with _every_ elemental in Undine's domain; that was the price he paid for his comfort in Volt's temple, though, so Yuan supposed things could be worse.

He wandered around the markets for a little while, wondering where he would go to disguise himself in this vicinity. He supposed one _could_ live in the Temple itself, as long as one didn't mind eating fish for every meal, but it would be just as easy to find employment somewhere in a hotel and blend in with the crowd.

_I'll see what I can find over on the island,_ Yuan decided. This early in the morning, there shouldn't be too many tourists around and he could probably check out the employees without too much trouble. Plus he'd get to relax a bit in the hot springs. Yuan _was_ on vacation, as he sternly reminded himself.

Yuan shared the brief ride over to the island with three elderly ladies from Palmacosta and a pilot who seemed determined to scare the living daylights out of them by gunning up his engine and zipping off towards the island at a breakneck pace. The ladies shrieked, Yuan glared, and the pilot looked crestfallen as the boat's security mechanism kicked in, bringing them to a slow and gentle landing at the docks. As they disembarked, one of the old ladies started scolding the pilot.

Yuan took the opportunity to peer interestedly at the mechanism that ran the little ferry. Except for the sound of water being thrown up by the machine, it had been almost silent and, more tellingly, it didn't consume the ambient mana when used. Instead, it took the mana from the water and expelled it out behind the little craft at a tremendous pace, jetting it forward without any net loss of mana. It was a very advanced design, and not one he'd expected to see in Sylvarant. (The last time Yuan had visited Thoda Geyser, it had been a choice between a noisy, oil-powered boat and sneaking off by himself to fly over the channel. He'd chosen to fly.)

After the old lady was finished yelling at the pilot, who looked none the worse for wear, Yuan tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but I don't think I've seen this particular design of craft before," Yuan said. "Would you know who designed it?" It would probably have to be the Palmacosta Royal Academy, but there were enough similarities to some of the machines Cruxis used that Yuan wouldn't be surprised if it had been developed by one of the bishops of Iselia – they tended to be well-educated enough that Yuan wouldn't put such a thing past them.

"This is an L-46 Seabird," said the pilot proudly, "developed right here at Thoda by one of our mechanics. If you're into this kind of thing, you should go check out the hangar." He motioned to a large building that jutted out from the docks, winked at Yuan, and shot off towards the hotel complex with a giant spray of seawater that drenched the docks.

Yuan grinned, not caring that he was now sopping wet with his least favorite element. _So that's where you've been hiding!_

Making his way over to the hangar building, Yuan extended his magical senses slightly, feeling for the slight disturbance that usually indicated a half-elf – not for a sorcerer's signature, since anyone with even the slightest bit of water affinity would be masked by the overpowering influence of Undine – but to anyone who knew how to look, there was a special kind of "bump" in a mana flow that formed around those of mixed human and elven descent. Concentrating to block out the bursts sent by the ferry craft, he finally located what he _thought_ was the sign of another half-elf inside the hangar. _If this isn't him, I'm going to be disappointed. Whoever it is sure went to a lot of trouble to ensure concealment!_

The hangar door was opened by another young man, similar to the ferry pilot in dress style and attitude, who gave Yuan an appraising look and said "Yeah?"

Yuan bowed. "Hi there. I was commenting that the L-46 Seabird was quite unlike anything I'd ever seen, and I'd be interested in seeing what your shop looks like. You could say I'm something of a fan of magitechnology transport machines." _You could also say I've been using them for longer than you could imagine._

"Okay by me," grinned the young man. Turning his head, he called out to someone deeper in the hangar. "Hey, Luke! Someone here wants to see your work!"

"Let them in," came a muffled reply.

The man motioned for Yuan to follow him in, and Yuan entered a workshop that would have passed muster at any of the Desian ranches he'd been in recently. Mechanics and off-duty pilots talked animatedly in small groups or tinkered with machines, and everywhere Yuan looked he saw vehicles in different stages of repair. "Luke's our boss," explained Yuan's guide as the two of them picked their way over to one corner of the hangar. "Couple of years ago, he started up a repair business and did some design on the side just for fun. Turned out he's a right genius with machines and soon his designs were making more money than his repairs, so he hired a bunch of us and started contracting out to the resort for transport to keep things running, and now he builds his own machines full-time."

"Good for him," said Yuan, and he meant it. If "Luke" was the alias Lucien was using, he'd managed to not only find a way to use his skills, but had – seemingly – integrated himself into human society in a fairly secure position. _If he doesn't want to join me, I'll understand. This is a good environment, and he's built it all himself._

"Luke! Visitor!" Yuan's guide poked a boot protruding from underneath something that looked vaguely like a Rheiard, nodded to Yuan, and skipped off to go back to whatever project he'd been working on.

The owner of the boot crawled out from under the machine, dusting himself off. Lanky and fair-skinned, he wore a cap with green hair poking out from underneath it and didn't look like he was more than twenty years old. "Don't get visitors too often," he began, and then froze when he saw who he was talking to. "Lord Seraph?" he hissed, looking alarmed.

"You got _tall_. And I'll call you Luke if you call me Yuan," said the Seraph. "Don't worry, nobody's after you. As far as they know, you're dead and have been for ten years."

Lucien relaxed visibly. "Thank you. How'd you find me? I thought I was doing pretty well."

"You are doing well. You look totally different than you did before." Yuan's last memory of Lucien was as a golden-haired boy of fourteen barely coming into his powers. This confident, tall man with green hair (probably a dye) had little in common with the boy so desperate to get away from Cruxis that he'd faked his own death and fled.

Lucien Terranon had been the crowning achievement of Cruxis's special half-elf breeding program. An intelligent, promising young man, Lucien had shown the extremely rare gift of balanced full-spectrum magic. Most half-elves, like Yuan and Botta, had a particular element they were comfortable with above the others and often couldn't use all of the different elements effectively. Yuan himself had never been able to cast a Water spell, but from an early age Lucien had shown equal proficiency with all eight elements, even the rare and difficult Light and Dark magics. Because he had been born to a Desian mother, he had been raised within Cruxis and trained since his earliest days and, when his talents began to manifest, groomed for the angel transformation.

Being the young prodigy that he was, Lucien had hacked into his own file and saw what was in store for him. Terrified, he'd run to the kindest of his tutors and begged for help. Yuan had agreed, and together they had set up an elaborate plan to let the boy escape with his life wile staging his death. Yuan had resisted the urge to try and follow him, knowing that he might put the boy in danger. For ten years, he hadn't known if their plan had succeeded or failed.

Now he grinned at the success story standing in front of him. "You've done better than I could have guessed," Yuan said softly. "Your business seems to be doing well, and your workers seem to like and respect you."

Lucien sighed. "It won't last, Lo—Yuan. I felt the mana flows reverse. In a few years, the mana levels won't be high enough to support any of these vehicles and I'll have to abandon my business." He frowned. "I don't know what I'll do then. It isn't easy to find a job that will give me freedom and," he said, lowering his voice, "one that doesn't mind if I'm a half-elf."

"By your own example, you're making it better for half-elves," Yuan said fiercely. "Your employees – yes, they're all punk teenagers now, but in a few years they'll be making the decisions in their communities and they'll look back on you and think that maybe half-elves aren't so bad after all."

"Yes," Lucien mused. "You're right – but that still leaves me with nothing to do when I can't run this business anymore."

"Just leave that to me," Yuan said. "You see, I've been thinking about how to work against Cruxis and I could use someone with your talents…."


	21. End of the Kharlan War

Author's Note: Wow, this one beats "Enlightenment" as the longest chapter so far. Yays.

* * *

An entire day had passed, and Botta was amused to note that they weren't even finished with the story yet. _Lord Yuan wasn't joking when he said that he would be back in a few days. I had no idea the history of the Kharlan War was so complicated!_

The turning point in the story had come not long after the four heroes learned how to use their Cruxis Crystals. Mithos's newly awakened sensitivity allowed him to hear the voices of the Summon Spirits and through them he learned of the legacy left to him by his human ancestors: the ability to make pacts and summon. It was an ability that manifested rarely, and summoners were usually found quickly and used by the opposing countries as weapons. Mithos believed – correctly, as it happened – that if he could make pacts with all eight elemental Summon Spirits, the very ruler of Heaven and Earth might appear before him and offer his power to the companions for the sake of ending the war.

"With each Summon Spirit he found," said the Storyteller after describing the battle with Luna and Aska, "Mithos vowed to bring peace to the land and life to the Giant Kharlan Tree. It was on the basis of these vows that Origin, King of the Summon Spirits, came to take notice of the young boy. As Mithos had travelled to the stronghold of each Summon Spirit, challenging them where their power was the strongest, Origin began to send him dreams of a place Mithos had never seen in all his travels: a clearing next to a waterfall, surrounded by a calm forest.

"When he described these dreams to his companions, none of them recognized it from their travels. Forests they knew, and waterfalls, but the vegetation sounded unfamiliar to everyone except Martel, and she had never seen a waterfall in Torent Forest. Deciding it was better to follow a tenuous lead than to leave the mystery unsolved, the heroes travelled to the one town they had never been to in all their travels: Heimdall.

"Though the banishment of Martel and Mithos had stood for ten years, it had not been lessened by time. Martel begged and pleaded to be let in for the sole purpose of passing through, but the stubborn Council of Elders held to their position until Mithos, outraged by the insult to his beloved sister, called upon the Summon Spirits to display their power.

"They formed the shape of a circle with Mithos as their center and he once again demanded passage. This time, his voice was overlaid with a deep resonance that none of them had ever heard before, and those who looked at the hero saw now only his own form, but also that of a great four-armed being from the most beloved of elven legends: the shape of Origin himself.

"'Allow us to enter Torent Forest,' said Mithos with Origin's voice. 'We will bring no harm to the village. You have our word.'

"Shocked, the elves let the heroes pass. Kratos and Yuan tried to take in everything as they hurried through the village, but Martel was trying not to look. For her, the memories of her mother were still too powerful and returning to the village was a keen reminder of the life to which she was forbidden to return. Mithos, usually a receptacle for his sister's moods, was still smoldering with anger and power and did not see anything except the path in front of him.

"Once they entered Torent Forest proper, each relaxed in his or her own way. Mithos knew instinctively where they were going and Martel found that the forest hadn't forgotten her, nor she it. In the human lands where magitechnology ruled all, she had never felt connected to the land in the same way she did here in the elven forest. Yuan felt as ease in a way he hadn't since the encounter with Volt and even Kratos, a human with no skill for magic at all, could feel the power of this place. Here, at least, the mana from the Great Tree flowed strongly through the land.

"Before long the group came to the very waterfall Mithos had seen in his dreams, though Martel swore she had never seen this place before. There, in a clearing touched by the spray, was a circle of stones that radiated a great power. Cautiously, they approached it and were greeted with the sound of Origin's voice.

"_I am Origin_, said the voice, echoing in their minds. _I have seen your dedication and I am impressed. I hold the power to stop the Kharlan War, but I am afraid it is too late for the Great Tree. Even now, it withers beyond the point of no return._

"'No!' exclaimed Martel. 'Without the Great Tree, the world will die!'

"'We cannot live without mana anymore than we could live without air,' said Yuan.

"'Has all our work been for nothing?' Kratos asked of the god (for so we elves revere Origin).

"Mithos remained silent, staring at the center of the circle.

"The mana began to swell, and before their eyes Origin showed himself to the four heroes. Looking at each of them in turn, he spoke, this time with a true voice and not in their minds. 'I would not have guided you here if there was nothing to be done,' he said gently. 'The Tree will die, but its Seed may yet sprout if peace can be obtained.'

"'Yes,' Mithos said. 'I understand. To each Summon Spirit I have vowed to revive the Great Kharlan Tree and bring an end to the war. Together with my sister and my friends, I want to save the world. Origin! Will you grant me your power?'

"Origin made a gesture, and before him appeared the form of a great sword shining with mana. 'When you have arranged a peace between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla, bring their kings to the Holy Ground of Kharlan and have them sign a treaty. At that time, my power will flow into this sword and you will be able to use it to bind their treaty and use the power of all Summon Spirits to germinate the Great Seed. The Kharlan Tree will die, but in its place a new Tree will be born.' The sword, gift of Origin to Mithos the Hero, floated over to the young half-elf and merged with the form of Hakon Yggdrasill's sword. 'I grant you this power. Now make a vow to seal our pact.'

"'I vow to use this power for the good of the world, and to reestablish the world's mana so that no one will have to suffer again!'"

But Botta knew that he hadn't. He knew, with a certainty that threatened to make him sick, that it was Origin's sword that had been used to split the world in two and prevented the Great Seed from growing. _Instead, he used Martel's Cruxis Crystal to merge her body with the Great Seed, using its mana to preserve her in a state between life and death…and he's spent more than three thousand years trying to bring her back from the dead._ Yuan's words.

With a heavy heart, he listened to the Storyteller describe the final events of the war and Tethe'alla's last, desperate attempt to win: they used Thor's Hammer, the ultimate weapon, to obliterate the city of Midgard and leave nothing but a smoking crater in its place. Horrified, the heroes had allied with Sylvarant's king, destroyed the weapon, and forced Tethe'alla to its proverbial knees. Mithos brought both kings to the Great Tree and showed them that their actions had killed it.

"It was there that he demanded they sign a peace treaty lest the world be destroyed. Grudgingly, they obeyed and, true to his word, Origin's power began to flow into Mithos. In a final display of violence, the son of Tethe'alla's king used Mithos's distraction as a moment of opportunity and leapt at the young hero with a poisoned blade, but his attack missed.

"It hit Martel.

"'Martel!' cried Mithos. Turning to the assassin with a fiery gaze, he screamed, 'How could you?!'

"'Human!' growled an outraged Yuan, preparing for an attack. 'Your kind should not be allowed to live!'

"Even the stoic Kratos was outraged. 'How far are you willing to go to take control of the mana?' he demanded.

"'I'll never forgive you,' said Mithos. 'You humans are all the same!' And with that, he drew the Eternal Sword and used its power to blast the king's son into oblivion.

"'Mithos, stop!' coughed Martel. The blade had pierced a lung and not even her own healing arts could save her, but she chose to hasten her own death by pleading with her brother.

"'Leave us,' snarled Mithos to the delegations of both countries, and they did. Mithos dropped down and held his sister's hand in his own. Yuan held the other, the hand with the ring he'd given to her as a sign of his love. 'Martel, no,' Mithos pleaded, for once sounding like the boy he was.

"Martel closed her eyes and shook her head. 'I have to go now, Mithos,' she said softly. 'You must finish what we have begun. I would have liked to see a world without discrimination….' Her eyes glazed over, and she said no more.

"Martel Yggdrasill died under the tree she had loved, and it was in that moment that Mithos changed forever. Unable to accept his sister's death, he used his sword to freeze Martel in the very moment before her soul left her body.

"The kings of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla had each retreated to a space far from the Great Tree with their delegations, and they began to argue fervently. The king of Tethe'alla said the terms were unfair and that the treaty favored Sylvarant, while the king of Sylvarant was horrified at the action of the assassin prince. Suddenly a great noise came upon them and their mighty voices were drowned out.

"A wave of force struck the ground and all were knocked to their knees. When they got up, the delegation from Tethe'alla realized that no one from Sylvarant remained in sight, and the delegation from Sylvarant also found itself alone. The dead Tree was nowhere to be seen.

"From that day forth, the kingdoms of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla never met again. Mithos had split the very world in two, and in this way the treaty was kept and there was never a great war again."

The Storyteller fell silent. He had reached the end of his cloth.

"But what happened then?" asked Botta, on the edge of his seat.

The Storyteller looked up, smiling sadly. "Why, then the three remaining heroes founded Cruxis, the organization that guides the world. Kratos abandoned his human identity when he chose to act as a seal for Origin. If Kratos should ever die, Origin would no longer be bound to Mithos, and thus he was also the first to undergo the angel transformation. Yuan was paralyzed by grief and gladly nullified part of his own Key Crest to inhibit his emotional response, becoming a heartless angel who proposed they use a bloodline of magical humans to act as sacrifices in order to resurrect Martel. And Mithos made himself a legend, abandoning his old name to identify himself only as Lord Yggdrasill.

"And so they remain to this day. Some time ago, Yuan was convinced to restore his emotions, but he has not graced me with that story and I do not know if he ever will."

Botta closed his eyes. "Thank you. For telling me the story, I mean."

"That is why the Storyteller exists." Botta felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see the Storyteller still smiling at him. "Thank you for listening."

Botta nodded and stifled a yawn. Once again it was very late and he had lost track of time. "I had better get to sleep."

The Storyteller waved and began to fold up the Mana Leaf Cloth. "Sleep well, young one, for who knows what the morrow may bring?"

Botta knew. Yuan was coming back tomorrow.


	22. Reunited

Author's Note: Sorry for the lateness on this. School is killing me.

* * *

It was starting to get late in the day when Yuan finally made his way back to Latheon Gorge. Sneaking Lucien through to Tethe'alla had _not_ been a pleasant experience, and Yuan was glad that they'd be able to use the Otherworldly Gate to get him back to Sylvarant. _We're really going to need an easier way to get back and forth between the worlds,_ he decided. He pondered this problem while absently dodging the random gusts of wind from the gorge's native flora.

As he approached the Storyteller's house, Yuan picked up the sound of voices discussing something in the garden. "…only you have to be careful not to water them overmuch or they will drown. In fact, this close to the waterfall I doubt you would have to water them at all."

"Ah, I see. Now this is an immature specimen of the wind-blossom that grows around here. When it gets larger I'll plant it somewhere useful, but for now it makes the garden a little brighter."

"Hello," Yuan called out. "Talking about plants over there?"

The Storyteller looked up. Dressed in a plain gardening tunic instead of his traditional cowl, he looked very different. "Greetings, Yuan. We're just waiting for you."

Yuan hoped that wasn't a bad thing. He leaned on the little wooden fence separating the garden from yard and looked over at the two of them. Botta was patting the dirt around a small succulent, not quite raising his gaze to meet Yuan's. The Storyteller gave a little more water to the immature flower and then smiled at Yuan. "Thank you for bringing Botta to me," the Storyteller said. "It isn't often I get to speak with half-elves, and I do love telling the Great Stories."

"You're welcome," said Yuan, surprised. "Did he make a good audience?"

Botta finally looked up at Yuan and, to Yuan's relief, rolled his eyes. "No, Lord Yuan, I was loud and disruptive the entire time and didn't pay attention to a word he said."

A knot of tension that had been building ever since Yuan had had the idea to bring Botta to the Storyteller began to unravel itself and Yuan felt almost giddy with relief. _He doesn't hate me_, he thought incoherently. _He knows and he still doesn't hate me._

The Storyteller chuckled. "He was a fine listener, Yuan. He did have to stop me and ask for clarification a few times, but that is to be expected. There were some things new to him that I would have expected him to know." He walked over to the house's side door, pausing at the frame. "And now I think I shall leave the two of you alone to discuss them. There will be tea inside if you would like some." He nodded to the half-elves and entered his house, shutting the door behind him.

Botta walked out the gate and stood next to Yuan, both of them leaning against the fence. They stood in silence for a few moments. Finally Yuan could stand it no more and spoke. "I know what you're thinking, Botta, and yes, I should have told you," he said, his voice falling to a whisper, "but it still hurts so much."

"Even after all this time?"

"Yes," he said simply. "Even after all this time."

"I have learned much," Botta said after another moment of silence. "What the world was like back then…it is difficult to imagine." He smiled a little bit. "At least now I know who Kratos is and why the Summon Spirits expected him to be with you."

"Yes, Kratos has been there for me when there was no one else I would listen to, and no one else who would listen to me." Yuan paused, trying to put his next thought into words. What he settled on was "You listen to me."

"I may not understand what you are saying sometimes, Lord Yuan, but I do listen," Botta agreed gravely.

"There will be times when I can't tell you everything," Yuan whispered. "Like about Martel." He slid a ring off his right hand and handed it to Botta. "That's the ring she gave me when we were engaged."

Botta looked carefully at the mythril ring set with sardonyx, squinting at the worn letters inside the band. "It's very beautiful," he said, handing it back to Yuan.

Yuan nodded and slipped it back on his finger. "Its twin is still on Martel's body. Every time Yggdrasill makes me attend a revival ceremony, I see it and it makes me feel…." He sighed. "Hurt. Angry. Sad. Something I don't have a name for. I wear mine not to remember Martel – I could never forget her – but to remind me of what it was she wanted. I feel she would be horrified to learn of this system of sacrifice we have established – that I helped established."

"Will you tell me what she was like? You don't have to if you don't want to."

Yuan closed his eyes and smiled. It was good to remember her as she had been and not as she was now. "A little younger than me, but not by much. She was very tall, which must have come from her father's side because elves tend to be on the short side. Because she had been raised in Heimdall, she had much better control of mana than I did, but there were things I had figured out on my own that she didn't know so we were constantly teaching each other and experimenting. I thought at first that I was only drawn to her because she was another half-elf, so I didn't say anything for a long time." He covered his face with a hand, a gesture he'd picked up from Kratos. "Apparently I was making an enormous idiot out of myself. Kratos and Mithos had a bet going as to which of us would crack first and admit our feelings to each other, which of course Kratos won because he knew me _entirely_ too well. She just laughed and said of _course_ she loved me too.

"I don't know how anyone could have known her and not loved her. She valued all life, from humans to protozoans and from the Great Tree down to the tiniest blade of grass. When she entered a room, it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. She was always so happy to be alive, even when we were surrounded by destruction. Even in chaos, there was calmness around her that people responded to, that made them want to stop fighting and be at peace. Even the plants seemed to be happy around her, inasmuch as one could ascribe feelings to a plant." There in the world, surrounded by life – yes, that was how he liked to remember her.

Yuan opened his eyes, wiping them a little bit to get rid of the blurriness. It took him a moment to come back to Latheon Gorge from his memories. The bright sun, the sound of the waterfall, the scent of plants and, most of all, the half-elf sitting next to him and staring off into space all helped. _Is that what his role is? Grounding me in reality?_ That was an interesting thought. _I've needed someone like that._

"It was a little strange to hear the story of Mithos the Hero, knowing that he was a half-elf," Botta said. "In Sylvarant, I rarely saw others of my race. Racism varied from place to place, but surely if the truth about Mithos were known, we would be one step closer to a true world without discrimination.

"It is difficult to imagine," Botta repeated, "but perhaps if the Great Seed was truly saved, it will not be so hard to imagine someday. It is not going to be easy. I understand better, now, the scale of what it is we will need to do, but it has only deepened my resolve."

"Even though the chances of us actually succeeding are slim to none?" It wasn't really a question Yuan needed to ask. He already knew what Botta would say.

"Especially since they are so low, sir. If we do nothing, Yggdrasill wins."

Yuan smiled. He'd been right.

Yuan stood up and stretched. "Over the past few days, I've been gathering people I've known over the years in hopes that they'll join us. We won't be able to do very much on our own, and every person we have helping us increases our chances. I hope you don't mind?"

"No, I agree," Botta said, getting to his feet. "But where have you been gathering them?"

"There will be what I'm calling a general meeting tomorrow in the Lightning Temple. Most of them don't know each other yet, of course, but I think we can at least test the waters and see where we'll be able to start and what kind of steps we'll be able to take towards our goal." He paused. "They're going to want me to be the leader, but I can't neglect my Cruxis duties or Yggdrasill will know I've been doing something I shouldn't. I'll still lead, but for those times when I can't be there, I want you to be my second-in-command."

"Sir?"

"You know what we're trying to accomplish, you're dedicated, you question when it's necessary but you understand when it's better to remain silent, and I think some day it will be necessary to have a visible leader who clearly isn't of Cruxis. It will be a position of responsibility and danger, but I trust you, Botta." And he really did. Yuan couldn't say why, but he _knew_ as surely as he knew anything that Botta was sincere.

"I would be most honored, Lord Yuan." Botta was grinning. "And I am curious to meet these others," he added.

"Shall we spend the night here, then? I hope the Storyteller doesn't mind all the disturbance."

"He says I'm good company," Botta said, shrugging. "He probably gets lonely."

"All right then," Yuan decided. "We'll stay here tonight and go to the Lightning Temple in the morning."

_And there, the future is waiting._


	23. Renegades

Author's Note: This is technically the last chapter, but there's an epilogue coming still. Special bonus points to anyone who can spot the part of Yuan's speech I stole from Patrick Henry's "Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death" speech. _Yes_, there's going to be a sequel.

* * *

Botta felt a slight nostalgia as they approached the Temple of Lightning. Less than two weeks ago, their journey had led them to the first Seal. Now they were returning not on Cruxis business, but as part of the budding alliance against it.

There were already a few people waiting on the steps of the Temple when Yuan and Botta arrived, and Botta was mildly surprised to note that they were all half-elves. When he mentioned this to Yuan over the radio, Yuan had said he _did_ know some humans that would be interested, but that they weren't going to be able to make it to the meeting. "I don't know any elves who would be interested," he'd added, "but then, I don't really know many elves."

It was interesting, Botta observed after they turned off the stealth fields and dismounted from the Jet-Bikes, that the half-elves who had gathered looked like they were from many different places and backgrounds (including, Botta noted, someone wearing what he thought was a Sylvarant pilot's outfit), but that all of them called Yuan "Lord". Had they, like Botta, first met Yuan through Cruxis?

"It looks like almost everyone is here already," Yuan was saying. Botta snapped to attention. "We're just waiting on one group, and I imagine their arrival will be quite noticeable. In the meantime, I'd like you all to meet Botta; it is because of his support that I've finally decided to gather you all and do something to make this world a better place."

Botta blushed. "You can't be _serious_, sir," he hissed at Yuan who, astonishingly, looked perfectly earnest.

"Can't I?" he replied in a whisper, and he gave Botta a small smile. "It's true, you know. It's because of my reliance on you that I've found the confidence to do all of this." He looked like he was going to say more, but then he turned his head to one side and nodded. "Here comes the Exire delegation."

Before long, the rest of them could hear the loud droning of air vehicles as well. "Convenient things, but they're too _noisy_," commented the one Botta thought looked like a pilot.

"Develop me one that runs as silently as a Jet-Bike," Yuan challenged, and the pilot grinned.

"Yes, sir!" he said, winking as he saluted. He looked like he was itching to inspect one of the craft from a closer perspective, but held himself back as a group of half-elves led by a red-haired man (fire mage, Botta could tell right off) disembarked.

"Good," Yuan said. "Welcome, Julius. I do believe we are all here now." He motioned for Botta to follow him and headed for the top of the stairs while their audience arranged themselves on the grass. Botta couldn't help but smile. He hadn't seen this many half-elves since he'd been in training under the Desians. He took what would come to be his customary position: to Yuan's left and half a step back. Once everyone was settled, Yuan began to speak.

"When a painful truth is set before us, we react in different ways. Some delude themselves into thinking it could not possibly be true. Some run away from that which caused them to see the truth, thinking that being out of sight will put it out of mind. Some simply deny it, living their lives in shadow and, in their denial, negate their own best reasoning skills. It takes a rare person to see a painful truth and accept it for what it is. It takes a brave person to accept the truth and try to change it.

"It is the truth that Cruxis, the organization that guides the world, is leading us into suffering and the eventual destruction of all life. It is the truth that the Chosen is deliberately made to suffer and sacrifice his or her own life in exchange for the promise of a future that will, eventually, fail. It is the truth that Yggdrasill would end discrimination by eliminating humans, elves, and all others that don't fit his specific criteria for his Age of Half-Elves.

"And it is the truth that we, as half-elves, are burdened with the moral responsibility of seeing that this does not come to pass.

"Is it really, you may ask? How can we be responsible for the acts of the Desians, who we have left or never belonged to? Should we not abandon the humans, as they have often abandoned us?

"We cannot abandon the humans. Their attitude towards half-elves is caused by two factors: first, because they see the atrocities committed by the Desians and think that we all must act that way; second, because they do not understand us. The first reason is also the reason we must bear responsibility for the acts of our brethren. If we are to be judged for ourselves and not by our race, it is imperative that we show humans and elves that we are capable of more than acts of violence and destruction. When we share our knowledge with them, when we help those who are suffering, when we stand up and fight for what is right instead of suffering against the established system because we are afraid to change, we will abolish the first and negate the second. You do not have to understand someone to respect them, like them, love them for who they are rather than who our elders tell us they should be.

"More than anyone else, it is our responsibility as free half-elves to make these changes. We are blessed with elven lives and elven magic coupled with human passion and human ability to adapt to the unknown. Are there any others who could have the patience to fight a battle from the shadows that would be measured in centuries rather than months? Are there any others who would cling to courage, hope, ideals in the face of despair? Are there any others who would see the enemy as a potential friend, and work not towards their destruction but to their redemption? Are there any others who the enemy would see as a potential friend, and try to negotiate rather than outright destroy?

"Each one of you here embodies at least one of those traits. Though there are few of us now and many of them, it is not on strength alone that worlds are won. They are stronger than us. They will always be stronger than us. But victory does no go to the strong alone; it goes to the vigilant, the active, the brave, and the dedicated.

"I propose to fight for a world governed not by who is strong, but who is responsible. Neglect has led to a world based on sacrifice and decline in order to 'protect' it, leaving the people in ignorance of its true nature. What should be controlled by education and tempered by wisdom is instead controlled by ignorance and tempered with brute force. We can teach humans how to use magitechnology in a way that does not threaten the world's mana supply. We can teach humans that half-elves have the same right to live as any of them. We can teach elves that half-elves have the same right to live as _them_. We can teach half-elves that race and birth and power are not what make you superior, but how you live the life you're given and how you choose to act when the choices are difficult to make.

"And when we are ready, we shall teach everyone the greatest truth of all: that the great Kharlan Tree is dead, but its Seed survives; that with the resources Cruxis uses to control the worlds, we could let the Great Seed germinate into a new tree and give them a world based in freedom and love, rather than in distrust and hatred.

"In the past, those who have stood against Cruxis from within were labeled 'Renegade' and executed. Now, from within Cruxis, I stand alone. If you would join my Renegades, stand with me and swear to fight for this new world!"

"I swear it," Botta immediately said.

"I swear it!" a girl who looked no older than fifteen said.

"I swear it," said the man named Julius with a fierce look in his eye.

"I swear it," came the echo as each half elf stood up in turn and added his or her voice to the swell.

Yuan turned to Botta with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face. Botta grinned in reply and they clasped hands.

Thus were the Renegades born.


	24. Epilogue

Author's Note: Well everyone, it's been a long and strange journey, but we're here at last. A great big THANK YOU to everyone who's reviewed!! The special participation award goes to Epiclesis, who will get that one-shot about how Yuan got his emotions back. To anyone else who's made it this far, a giant thumbs-up and I hope to see you (metaphorically) in the sequel!

* * *

In the innermost chamber of the Tower of Salvation, protected by the highest security Cruxis was capable of providing, Yuan knelt in prayer.

It was not to the Goddess that he prayed, though her figure stretched out before him in sleep. No, it was to the woman that had been made into the Goddess that he directed his prayer.

_Martel,_ he thought, _I have started down a path that will kill you._

_I have no right to ask for forgiveness. I am doing it for the sake of the world, but it is also true that I am going to kill the woman I have always loved._

_I can only pray that I am right, and that you are dead._ A tear trickled down his face, but he paid it no mind. _Once, I would have given everything to see that it was not so. My soul was nearly lost because of it, and for that as well I know I have no right to ask for forgiveness. Instead, I have tried to live my life doing what I think you would have believed in. I do not know if you would agree with me._

_That is what hurts the most: not knowing. It could be that your revival would not mean the death of the Great Seed, in which case I am taking the wrong path. It could be that you are as Mithos claims, and eagerly awaiting rebirth, in which case I am surely betraying all of you. It could be that you approve of the Age of Half-Elves, in which case my interpretation of your final wish is completely wrong._

_Or it could be that I am right, and my actions will mean your death._

_Though I lack the right, I felt that some explanation was necessary. I know you cannot hear me, but it eases my mind to think that my prayer will reach you._

_For the crime of establishing a system in your name that makes a mockery of the hopes and dreams you desired, I make no excuse. For my punishment, I have taken it upon myself to correct these wrongs._

_I do not care if it means my death to oppose your brother. I believe what he is doing is wrong. I have planted the seeds of a movement that will, I hope, bring the Great Seed to germination and return prosperity to the worlds. I know this will destroy your body, but I cannot believe that you would want to live on in a state of near-death while the world suffers. You were never that kind of person._

_If I am wrong, forgive me for my presumption. I only meant it because I love you._

_If I am right, forgive me for causing your death. I mean it only because I love the things you stood for in life._

He knelt in silence for a moment longer, then stood up and turned his back to Martel.

Kratos was waiting for him outside the room. Dressed in his full Cruxis regalia, he stood with wings unfurled. One of the cures had worked, but Yuan didn't feel, at the moment, like asking which one. Kratos, of course, could read Yuan's emotions better than anyone else alive. He silently accompanied Yuan to the transporter.

Once they were outside the entrance to Yuan's private quarters, Kratos finally spoke. "I'm glad you're back," he said.

"Thank you," Yuan said, smiling a little at his oldest friend. He hesitated for a moment. "Kratos…."

"What is it, Yuan?"

Yuan shook his head. "Nothing." He waved to Kratos and entered the closest thing he had to a home.

Kratos stood by the door for a little while before returning to his own quarters, wondering what it was that had disturbed his friend so much.

In the Great Seed's chamber, Martel's spirit slept against the source of the world's mana, bound together, waiting for the time when they would be awakened.

_The End_


End file.
